Quill here. I thought everything was going to change when Greyson was no longer a kitten. Not quite.
Every time he would nose me out of something (my dish, my spot on the bed, etc) I would call him out for a wrestle. Naturally I would win in a landslide. I have MOVES.
But as soon as I'd get the upper paw, Greyson would squeal like a baby. Of course Mom would hear and she'd tell me to let him go... "Quillbert he's just a baby!"
So I'd let him up and he thought it was fine to nose in the next time. On his birthday I realized - he's not a baby anymore! I didn't need to be the bigger cat and let it go.
So when I jumped on the bed and caught him snuggled up on MY woobie blanket I gave him a little chomp on the hiney.
When we were wrestling I had him down for the count. When he squealed I KNEW Mom would be on my side. Do you know what she said?
"Quill! He's smaller than you..."
Seriously? He's always gonna be smaller - does that mean I have to let eat my meal? Surely not - right?