If I were an X-men, or a Hero, or some kind of mutant with a specially evolved super power I'm certain my skill would be something involving my olfactory sense. Unfortunately it isn't as glamorous as a cheerleader who can heal herself or a phoenix with telepathic abilities, but we all make do with what we have. And I have a very heightened sense of smell.

I have never told anyone this, mostly because it's kind of embarrassing, but I feel like it properly illustrates my power of sniff. I once lived in an apartment that had a bit of a cockroach problem. Every so often, one of the monsters would make it's way to my bathroom via the bathtub drain. Gross? Yes, but even more terrible: I could smell the roaches before I would see them. My nose would detect a distinct earthy smell and a few seconds later a cockroach would crawl into my sight line. It was an occurrence that I dreaded every morning when getting ready for work.

Basically, I can smell everything.

Like the cat pee in my new kitchen. I don't know at what point a feline lived in my house, but I do know that its owner didn't have time to properly train it to use a litter box. Now I'm left to deal with that specific musty smell every time it's humid. And Kansas City in the middle of July? It's always humid.

"I might not have signed the lease if I knew about the cat-pee smell," I complained to my mom. Her answer: "Murphy's oil soap once a week."

Is Murphy's a miracle? Maybe not, but it is quite the product, and so unassuming. The formula is about 100 years old, vegetable based, biodegradable and it's a soap, not a detergent, so it isn't caustic or harsh. Plus it smells amazing. And, if used once a week on a cat-peed floor, it will begin to lift the scent out of the floorboards. It's affordable too - Murphy's can be found at any neighborhood grocery for about $6/ 32 oz.

the simple challenge took an unplanned hiatus because for the last three weeks my life has been anything but. acquiring a nine-week-old welsh terrier named oliver: unsimple. moving myself and olly from our little one-bedroom into a two-story house with two roommates and another dog: unsimple. scrubbing, sweeping, scrapping, taping and painting a 500 square-foot apartment in the course of three days while maintaining a full schedule: unsimple.

i've been told i act like a five-year-old who hasn't been taught how to do anything. it might sound harsh, but there's a nugget of truth in that statement. i'd like to think i'm a bit of a classic idiot savant: very strong in a few areas and dismally insufficient in every other. for example, i don't really know how to swim. or tell time on an analog clock. or change a flat, mow the lawn or use a propane grill. until i moved to kansas city last june i'd never taken out the trash. i'm not even a very good driver.

something else i'd never done: clean a stove top. i mean really clean one, taking the entire range apart and scrubbing until it looks new. so i think it follows that i'd never really known how utterly noxious some household chemicals really are. as in, causing headaches, nausea, faintness of breath and congestion the likes of which could compete with the nastiest of flus.

unfortunately, i didn't even consider making my moving process part of the simple challenge until it was over. but i won't miss another opportunity to simplify: my roommates and i have a big feat in front of us, in terms of cleaning and unpacking and setting up our new house. so the next simple challenge phase will examine the best way to set up a shared household in terms of simplicity and conservation.