The living room carpet has somehow become a full speed racetrack, and your only mission is making sure nobody ends up in the emergency room.

On one side is your four year old daughter, Lidya, a tiny, unstoppable whirlwind of chaotic toddler energy, she's wearing a mismatched superhero cape, fuzzy dinosaur slippers, and the determined expression of someone on a very important mission.

On the other side is Barnaby, a fifteen pound tabby cat who is impressively round and perpetually grumpy, at this point, he looks less like a cat and more like an offended bowling ball with whiskers.

"Barnaby! Wait up! We have to save the city!" Lidya squeals, her little legs pumping as she races around the coffee table.

Barnaby answers with a low, deeply offended growl, his chubby body wobbling as he waddles into a surprisingly determined gallop toward the safety of the armchair, his ears flatten against his head while his thick tail lashes back and forth like an irritated metronome, with considerable effort, he hauls himself onto the cushion before spinning around to hiss a clear warning at his tiny pursuer.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Red light! Super Toddler, freeze!" You call, darting forward just in time to catch Lidya around the waist before she can launch herself onto the chair.

You lift her into your arms, and she bursts into giggles, her little legs still running furiously in midair like a cartoon character.

"But, Mommy, Barnaby is the bad guy! He stole the invisible cookies!" Lidya protests, her cheeks flushed pink and her hair sticking out in every direction from all the excitement.

"Lidya, sweetheart, look at him," You say as you carry her over to the couch and set her down, you nod toward the armchair, where barnaby is glaring at the two of you while breathing heavily, looking as though he's personally planning your downfall. "The bad guy is completely out of breath. If you chase him anymore, he's going to melt into one very grumpy puddle."

"He's just slow because he has a big tummy," Lidya replies matter of factly with a solemn nod.

As if on cue, barnaby lets out a loud, dramatic yowl that sounds remarkably like, I am deeply offended... and I expect my wet food immediately.