At which point, the kitten proceeds to lick his chops, shove his face back into the bowl, and get spaghetti sauce all over his whiskers. Somewhere in the background Adrianne laughs before the feed cuts off.]
I've actually managed to cook something that The Beast deigned to eat.
I know we're talking about a cat here, but he's picky as all hell unless bacon's involved. And I could probably burn water. (And by probably, I mean that I have on more than one occasion.) So I'm allowed to feel like I've accomplished something in life. Shut up. My ancestors would be proud. If any of them currently spoke to me.