The human male wants to make “spud soup” with the leftover mashed potatoes. Fair enough. The human female doesn’t know how to make them for anything less than an army, so there is plenty to work with.
Step one: Locate the baggie of potatoes in the overcrowded cold box.
Step two: Realize that step zero was making sure I hadn’t unzipped the baggie when no one was looking.
Huh. That worked rather better than I thought it would…
Fenrir’s whiskers! What was that stripey streak?!
The felines are never fed “people food,” but Taffy Cat’s hearing is very good, and apparently mashed potatoes hitting vinyl makes an irresistible noise indeed.
“Here, Flannel! Don’t you want in on the excitement?”
I’d like to go on record saying that if either of them barfs, I’m not cleaning it up…