Little G and Ms. Puss understand

The evolution of the cats’ nicknames is an ongoing source of amusement in our house. I’ve written before about the litany of names that Scully has born, but now that our brood has grown to three, the nicknames have developed a tendency to snowball. For instance, Lunchboy sometimes calls Cringer “sweetmeat.” Somehow sweetmeat has been truncated to “meat.” As in, “Hey, meat! Are you a fluffy girl?” It always catches me off guard, probably in the same way it would if I actually knew the Veals.