In preparation for the arrival of Steve Austin: The Six Million Dollar Cat, Daisy and I went to a bookstore to find a book about raising cats. They had a ton of books on the topic, so we picked one that seemed both accessible to a 9 year-old and informative. I read through most of the book last night, focusing on the chapters that talked about how to make a kitten comfortable in your home, basic cat needs, and how to "train" a cat.

A lot of the material in the book seemed pretty subjective. I mean, are they sure that my cat will prefer a two-syllable name? I'm not so sure that that's true when it comes to cats like Steve Austin: The Six Million Dollar Cat. Dude has a pretty good name.

This reminded me about what it was like back when Hank and I used to read books about babies, specifically books about ways to get your baby to go damn sleep already. After the third book or so, it became apparent that there was a book espousing every possible child care method.

Want to keep your kid strapped to your bosom 24/7? Congrats! There's tons of books on that method.

Want to Ferberize your child, getting her to sleep using increasing amounts of isolation? Hoo hoo! You can find a shelf full of books supporting you.

Want to beat your kid for the hell of it, in the name of maintenance displine? I'm sure this website and bookstore will validate the wisdom of such an approach.

There are books for those methods, every method in between, and every method beyond. You can find books telling you to never let your kid cry, books telling you to have your kid cry once a day, and books that basically encourage you to have your kids scream all the freaking time. No matter your parenting style, there's a book telling you that you're doing the right thing, or the wrong thing. You can pat yourself on the back or self-flagellate with all the evidence you wish.

So, I figure I can't go wrong with this cat. I mean, there's gotta be SOME book somewhere telling me to perform psychological tests on the kitten for the purposes for blog material, no?

Or at the very least maybe I can find a book that tells me what to do with a daughter who spent a good long time on Sunday afternoon looking longingly at a pile of puppies.