Unlocking the front door, you opened it to the sound of pacing footsteps in the kitchen. Assuming it was your boyfriend, Phillip, you set your bag down, took off your shoes, and locked the front door before making your way to the source of the noise.

"Everything alright, Phillip?" you called out, receiving a few seconds of silence in response.

"Yeah—yup, everything's alright, sweetheart...!" Phillip replied, his voice carrying noticeable distress.

Concerned, you asked once more, "Are you alright?"

"I am...a-okay! Just don't come in the kitchen—" he cut himself off as he heard your footsteps and sensed you peeking into the corridor of the kitchen.

Seeing him with one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead, you followed his gaze to understand what had him so stressed.

It was your cat, the entire bag of catnip obviously knocked out of the cabinet and spilled on the floor. The cat was rolling around, enjoying its high.

"I may have accidentally left the cabinet open for a second or two," Phillip admitted, turning his head to look at you.