Carolyn Holm

Hey Mom,
Puffin says I have the most names.
Winston

Dear Winston,
The most names? Do you mean nicknames?
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
I guess. He says you have more names for me than you have for him or for Poppy.
Winston

Dear Winston,
He may have a point there. We do have a lot of nicknames for you. Sometimes I call you Junior. Or Peanut. Rascal. Slinky. Your Foster Mom called you Squeak. Puffin calls you Coquin. And we call you the Quilt Shark when you are a furtive lump moving around under the bedcover. 
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
Dad calls me Garbanzo. And Bezoon. 
Winston

Dear Winston,
Bezoon is a good one. It’s “cat” in Arabic. 
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
I thought Dad is Armenian.
Winston

Dear Winston,
He is. But the Armenian word for cat isn’t funny. Bezoon is funny. We like funny.
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
Puffin’s nicknames are Puffy and Puffin-McMuffin. And you call him your Handsome Dude. He likes that, though he doesn’t show it. Sometimes you call him Grumpy Pants. And you called him Fat Boy once. He didn’t like that at all.
Winston

Dear Winston,
I apologized to him for that. It wasn’t very nice. Unfortunately, Mia used to call him Fat Boy all the time.
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
Then there was Cuddles.
Winston

Dear Winston,
That was a bit of a shock, wasn’t it? I was talking to you and I said “Hey Cuddles” and Puffin looked up from where he was sleeping on the other end of the sofa. His head just popped right up. And he immediately walked to me chirping his “Here I am” chirp. 
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom, 
Maybe that’s his real name.
Winston

Dear Winston,
That’s interesting – maybe it’s what he calls himself! Who would have thought it. I’d never have thought of calling him that. His response was so sweet, and also kind of funny. And now he’s denying it, because he’s embarrassed. Puffin takes himself so seriously. That’s why I can’t resist teasing him now and then. He is an easy target.
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
You don’t tease Poppy. Her names are all cute. Poppers, Popsie, Popchek, and Popsicle. And sometimes you call her Lady Pants. I don’t think she cares what you call her, though.
Winston

Dear Winston,
Probably not. And no, I don’t tease her. She’s such an innocent.
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
Sometimes you call me bad things.
Winston

Dear Winston,
I really don’t think I do that, sweetie.
Love, Carolyn

Mom,
You called me a beady-eyed, cross-eyed, manic kitten.
Winston

Dear Winston,
Oh, that. Well for starters, at the time you were not only on the dining table but under the tablecloth, playing Quilt Shark. A moving lump on the table. It was kind of funny, but you know you are not allowed on the table.
Carolyn

Hey Mom,
Other people allow their cats on their tables.
Winston

Dear Winston,
Every family has their own rules. I don’t want your feet on my table. I know where your feet have been. And you notice you don’t see me or Dad walking on the table. The rule here is NO ONE walks on the table. But I’m sorry I called you beady-eyed. Your eyes aren’t beady.
Carolyn

Hey Mom,
What about the cross-eyed manic part?
Winston

Dear Winston,
That’s all true. Because, to be fair, you do have eyes that have a tendency to cross. And manic, yes, that is accurate. You get that slant-eared look and I know there’s going to be mayhem. The tablecloth incident was right after you raced around and around the house, knocked over the cat tree, and then got into the kibble bin and pulled out one of the kibble bags. I don’t know how you managed that, but you spilled the kibble all over the kitchen floor. And then you went flying off to the dining table.
Love, Carolyn

Hey Mom,
I wasn’t so much on the table as under the tablecloth.
Winston

Dear Winston,
All that and a smart-ass too.
Carolyn

Mom,
See, you call me names. Smart-ass isn’t very nice.
Winston

Dear Winston,
I stand firm on that one. You are definitely a smart-ass.
Love, Carolyn

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