The next morning, after he'd given them juice and milk and four eggs and some butter and jelly, and they were busily making toast, the refrigerator whispered something to the overhead light.

"...and it's all the crumbs he leaves on the counter. That brings mice, you know."

"Yes, but--"

"No buts. It's gotta stop if we're to have any quiet time here at all."

"Well don't tell the blender. She seems to enjoy it."