Ok, so Captain gets away with more stuff than Billy does and the reasons are twofold:
1) Captain doesn’t have any front claws, so when he “scratches” it does absolutely no damage. When Billy scratches with his dino-talons of steel, he shreds beyond repair. So yeah, logical double standard.
2) Captain does NOT listen to me. “Captain, get down! Captain! Get down! Bad kitty, get down! GET DOWN! CAPTAIN!” No response. Bill, on the other hand, is something of a scaredy poop and will comply with the rules as soon as I look at him. *I walk into the living room and see him sitting on the coffee table* “Bill–” *Bill leaps off the table and scampers away to hide.* “Ok, then.”
But Captain has decided that he too would like to impose a double standard… of communication between me and Cristian.
So when Daddy’s around, Captain is a wee baby kitten with sad little pathetic or sometimes whispered cries. “Mew? Daddy? Mew? Open the door for me because I’m so super cute?”
With me, it’s all demands and assertions, “MROW! MOMMY, OPEN DOOR! MROW! MROW-OW! MER-MER-MERRRRROW! DO IT NOW!”
And because it’s not obvious enough that these shenanigans occur, he proved it this morning when he hopped up on our bed before we got up, climbed up to my face and said, “MORRREOW! MER-MEROW!” And then Cristian rolled over and patted him and Captain got all, “Mer? Mew? Ma-mew?”
Whatever. Who feeds you? Who cleans your poops? What does Daddy do that gets him the kitten cries?
Oh, yeah, he opens the back door for you in the morning.