That's a Daddy Question.

There are numerous reasons why I love being married to my husband. He is kind, he is funny, and most of all, he is an active partner in parenting.

I was particularly grateful this morning. While I was getting Caleb dressed, he kept pulling at his underwear.

"What are you doing, Buddy?"

"I'm trying to put my hand in my pocket."

"That's not a pocket Bud."

"What is it?"

"Go ask your father."

Orange Cat

I have a new man in my life.

Let me rephrase that.

I have a new used-to-be-a-male in my life

His name is Orange Cat, and he is wonderful.

We initially met one day while the entire family was out for a walk in the easement property, and there was this small, orange cat lying on the large pile of grass clippings that we had accumulated over the summer. I was initially very skittish and worried that he may be rabid or wild, but those fears were quickly assuaged after Callie went up for a smell and this little cat wrapped himself around her legs. The first words out of my mouth to Scott were "Looks like we have a new cat!" to which he replied "No, we don't."

Over the next three weeks, we (Scott and I, just to clarify) put out small bowls of food for our new friend. Caleb would wake up every morning and want to go outside to see Orange Cat. We often found Orange Cat sleeping outside in Chloe's stroller (which we leave on our porch for ease of use), and if we went for a walk in the neighbourhood, he would follow us along.

Then we found out he was cheating on us. Three other families in our area were also feeding Orange Cat - but he went by different names: Kit Kat, Tom, and Kitty. No one, however, seemed to know where he came from, and he was just too friendly to be a wild barn cat.

Barb, my next door neighbour, and I both tried to find Orange Cat a home. I tried to pawn him off on my patients, particularly those that had expressed an interest in getting another cat. I even tried to give him to the lady that cleans our house. No luck.

Finally, when the weather started turning cold last week, Scott said "You better take Orange Cat to the vet and make sure that he is healthy before we bring him into the house with the other animals." And just like that (!), Orange Cat became ours.

The first night in our house, Orange Cat curled up on my lap and took an hour and a half nap: safe, warm and secure.

I have tried calling him different names ( I am really partial to Oliver), but both Caleb and Scott insist that his name is Orange Cat. So, Orange Cat it is... and it suits him.