The Quandary

Anna: Oh, my God...
Me: What?
Anna: We just bought socks and underwear together, and today we're getting a cat.
Me: All right, that does it. We've gotten entirely too domestic.
Anna: [helpfully] But...we're still edgy...

We're registered at Pottery Barn.

slipjig and rafaela would like to announce the arrival of a bouncing baby furry calico meow-thingy, which we have formally named Sonar Shemesh Dammit Artemesia Fromm, alias "Sunny." If I may explain:

Sonar: Her Official name, the one that'll be embossed on the nametag.
Shemesh: Her Hebrew name, because Anna insists on raising her Jewish. (I asked her if we'd be holding a cat mitzvah. Oy, the Look of Death I got...)
Dammit: Her Bad Kitty name, used in times of duress: "Dammit, get out of the linen closet!" "Dammit, stop nuzzling my armpit!" "Dammit, that's a can opener, not a cat toy!"
Artemesia: Her Magic name, chosen for a familiar-in-training in an herbalists' home.
Fromm: Her Surname. Anna's old-fashioned.
Sunny: What we're actually going to call the thing.

As I type this, Sunny is reclining on the windowsill a foot and a half to my left, playing possum and looking as cute as the Dickens. She's already rubbed up against every object of value in the apartment in the standard feline it's-mine-mine-mine-all-mine gesture, and has taken to curling up in Anna's lap just so. She still has abandonment issues, as we cannot leave her alone in a room without her yowling for our attention.

Yeah, she's family now. *nuzzles the little furball*