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Surprise visits worse than squishy toes

I managed to get through this past weekend without a sea of cat barf.

However, about halfway through my lazy Saturday morning sporting pajamas, raccoon-eyes of mascara, and a “Bride of Frankenstein” hairdo, I would have traded the incoming moment for something squishy between my toes.

My cellphone went off and I answered it to find the “FaceTime" video app open up and reveal my dishevelled appearance to the person on the other end, whose first words were, "Oh, good heavens, is that you?”

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