In the kitchen with a kitten

How regular people bake, who don’t have a foot-attacking Godzilla wannabe foster kitten careening around the house: move around kitchen with ease, never having to double-check cabinets or extricate anything small and fuzzy from drawers.

How I currently have to bake: move around in an abbreviated hobble because there is a small critter launching herself gleefully at my ankles and I am trying very hard to avoid stepping on her; double-check every cabinet I open to make sure she hasn’t dashed inside (in a way, having her attached to my ankle makes it easier for me to know where she is); be super careful not to drop anything because while this little fuzz turns up her adorable little nose at canned food, she LOVES her some carbs and she will be RIGHT THERE, a little one-kitten cleanup crew, if you, say, drop a tiny tart shell on the floor while making these, to hoover that up before you ever have a chance to react.

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