Last summer I stopped by the house I grew up in, back in the '60s. It is now occupied by the son of the people who bought it from my parents. He's just a few years younger than I am. He was in the process of making some improvements and changes when I happened to stop in, so the house was in complete disarray. He graciously showed me around anyway, but the odor of cat pee was overwhelming and I didn't linger. Once he is done remodeling, I hope he gets all of the belongings put away somewhere and his cats learn to use a litter box.