I'm concerned I'm living with at least one evil genius.

Last night I was in the kitchen, halfway through a bbq chicken leg. Kirrily is standing beside me, behind her Houston is milling around apparently at random. Kirrily takes a step back, trips over the cat and lets out a gasp. She spins around, her elbow jolts my hand and the chicken leg goes flying. Underneath it is Houston, who deftly grasps it in his jaws and gets to work.

An accident? I think not.