Long before Comfort Diva existed, before cocktail napkins and cat-themed aprons filled my life, I had a tiny kitchen helper named Lulu. When Lulu was a kitten, I would pull a stool up to the kitchen counter and place her on it while I cooked. She would sit there, completely fascinated by everything I was doing. Chopping vegetables? Fascinating. Stirring soup? Riveting. Opening a can? The most exciting event of the day. She wasn't helping, exactly. But she was supervising.
