Every so often I really listen to myself and hear my own habits of speech. The way I speak of my cats is a perfect case in point. Ever since Cloud stood on my hand and hissed defiance at the two adult cats, I’ve referred to Tornado and Sophia collectively as “the big girls”. Our son will come in from school and inquire as to the whereabouts of the cats, to be told “Both the big girls are out, and Cloud is on the bathroom windowsill.” Or at bedtime, I will find myself telling him “I don’t know where the big girls are. Can you make do with the baby-girl?” (It’s a make-do because Miss Cloud won’t stay to cuddle until he falls asleep. Sophia is the best about that.)
So my grey-scale cats are “the big girls”, despite the fact that Cloud is a quarter again bigger than either Tornado or Sophia. And since I don’t see myself changing the verbal habit any time soon, I suspect they always will be.