He was an absolute mad man from the very start, which worked out well when we changed his name to Napoleon.
Yeah, yeah...I should't generalize with the "jerk" commentary...he's not really like that all the time. Sometimes, like after he has spent literally five minutes compulsively scratching at the side of the litter box because he just can't seem to get that poo covered to his liking, I feel a little bad for him.
Then, when he steps out of the box and announces with a fearsome wail that he has, in fact, finished both pooping and scratching, you sort of want the celebrate right along with him--maybe like you would if you were to potty train a toddler.
On more than a dozen occasions, he has brazenly approached the yarn bowl, looking for a toy. He'll pick up a ball in his mouth and with a devilish glance at me, try to walk away. There are only 756,398,915 special playthings in the toybox, you know...a guy gets bored.
Because he is much more young and agile than his brother, none of their wrestling matches are fair. This fact does not, however, prevent him from starting them. That's the jerk part. The rest of the time, though, he's as sweet as any other adolescent boy you would ever meet.
In time, he'll be less distracted and want to hang out more (right now, he'll voluntarily sit with a with a person for just a little while before it's back to play time) but I doubt he'll ever lose his taste for yarn. I might worry if he did.
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