Talking to a Wall

Robby had a friend stay over night. They wanted to watch a movie downstairs, which I have no problem with.  They wanted to have snacks downstairs, which I have a little problem with as we tend to have a problem with the tiny gray field mice that come inside this time of year.

So I get their movie going and head upstairs for the night.  The next morning, I go downstairs for one reason or another and find this:

That's 1 wrapper of "Red Vines", two potato chip bags (1 not quite empty) and over to the left of the blanket, is a plastic container that contained pickle wraps.

The old saying, "May as well be talking to a brick wall" applies here, methinks.