I'm feeling better as I enter the kitchen, mind turning, my optimism and excitement rushing to greet me as I ponder the problem. I normally love problems and figuring out how to solve them. And I let Tom Brown take that away from me. I'm smirking with what has to be satisfaction at the imagining of his downfall as I stride through the glass door. Until Mom turns around and lets out a squeak at the sight of me.

"Kitten MacLean! What happened?"

I brush her concern off ...