Nothing can change this love

Everything is still going swimmingly with Chuckie, with the exception of one minor incident today.

I returned from having dinner with a friend tonight to find Jackie sitting sullenly at the dinner table. Erik informed me that he had hit Chuckie and just got off a long time-out. This was totally unlike Jackie, who just this morning professed to "lov(ing) cats more than anyone in the whole wide universe," who LOVES cats in all caps, who literally tried to French kiss cats ON THE LIPS until he was told they lick their butts with those same lips, which only partially deterred him.

I had a feeling I wasn't getting the whole story.

So when the boys went to bed just now I brought it up with Erik. [In the interest of full disclosure, Chuckie has been having some digestive issues since he came home. It all gets in the litter box, but it's pretty... loose. And sometimes he passes gas and it smells just like a dog fart, which if you've ever smelled a dog fart you know is about the worst kind of fart there is. Erik calls it "shit farting," one of the many phrases he coined which initially seems either redundant or nonsensical but when you think about it you say, "No, that's right. That is exactly right. It is like a pile of shit vaporized into fart form." But onward.]

Erik admitted he was in the kitchen making dinner when he heard Jackie exclaim, "Eeew! Something smells like pooooooop!"

And Erik walked into the living room at the exact moment that Jackie was swatting Chuckie in what Erik described as "the butthole region." [God, I hope no one from the Humane Society is reading this right now. Tomorrow Cat Protective Services will be knocking down our door.]

Erik ommitted this part of the story when Jackie was present because he assumed, rightly, that I would laugh. Which I did, because I am an immature jerk.

Now hitting animals is wrong and bad and I condemn it. Thankfully Chuckie didn't seem to be injured in said region. Furthermore, do you remember the story about the caterpillar? Because the moral of the story is, when one animal gets thrown out a window by my son for pooping and the next animal gets off with a swat on the butthole region for a shit fart, that is what I as a parent call progress.