After I'm done feeding the cat, Katie lifts a forkful of the egg salad she's making for me to taste test.
"Mmmm, maybe something to brighten it up, like lemon juice, or pickle brine?" I say.
I finish cleaning up, lick my fork and realize that Katie's still using the fork with which she gave me my sample, and that my mouth tastes like fish.
I put the cat's fork in the dishwasher, pause to collect myself, and then say, "I have to tell you something."
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