What is in toothpaste anyway?

There's something about my oral hygiene routine that has a profound effect on Frida, the wunder kitten.

Every morning while I am getting ready for work, Frida joins me in the bathroom. I like the company (unless she's hungry, then she'll walk around all swishy-tailed being cute. If I don't pay attention then she starts nibbling on my ankles with her pointy-sharp kitty teeth — not cute) ... for the most part.

It's seems that the sound of my toothbrush against my teeth or the smell of the toothpaste or the act of my arm moving up and down has a laxative affect on Frida. More often than not, Frida makes a deposit into the cat-poo bank while I'm brushing my teeth.

I wouldn't care except that we still have the litter pan in the bathroom ... where I brush my teeth.

So the smell of her kitty poo wafts up and invades my senses while I'm trying to freshen myself up for the day.

Needless to say, it's a horrible combination. I'm practically puking every morning.

So why don't I just move the litter box? 'the hell? Mostly because it would require some sort of plan. I would have to figure out a place where it wouldn't be easily accessible to the dog (Quincy can get to it now, but she doesn't seem very interested in the Almond Roca buffet where it is). And then I'd have to move it there ... and that all just seems too much effort.

So, I'll just keep gagging through my teethbrushing ... and wishing I wasn't so lazy.