* Important note: The Moose's Mum is 86 years old and lives in a rest home. She is partial sighted and going deaf. And perhaps is a wee bit clueless at times (or too trusting for this world).
<I am having a "nap" in bed while this takes place and can hear everything because the Moose practically shouts so his mum can hear>.
Moose: "Time to give the cats their dinner. Toffee, Cleo, Dinner! How about Chicken and Turkey?" <sounds of pantry opening, single packet of wet food being shaken...Toffs and Cleo share one a day). "Mum, would you like some Chicken and Turkey?"
Mum: (brief pause) "Oh...ok."
Moose: "Toffee, Grandma's going to have some of your dinner. Hope she doesn't eat it all. How does Chicken and Turkey sound, mum?"
Mum: "That sounds good."
Moose: "Ok, here you are. Do you want a spoon or do you want to just slurp it up?"
Mum: "Oh, I'd better have a spoon."
Moose: "Ok, I'll get you a spoon."
Me: <from the bedroom> "You had better not be feeding your mother cat food!"
Moose: "Here you go, mum." <Pause> "That's cat food."
Mum: "...cat food?"
(last two lines are actually repeated a few times)
Moose: "That's Toffee and Cleo's dinner, don't eat it!" <pause> "Maybe you'd prefer some Chicken and Duck."
Mum: <chuckles> "That would be good."
Moose: "Here you go Mum" <presumably handing packet of food to his mum>.
Mum: "Oh...Moose, how do I open it?"
Moose: "That's cat food Mum!" <presumably takes it back>
Mum: "Oh...I thought it was chocolate."
Moose: <laughing at his mum> "You thought it was chocolate?"
Me: <still from the bedroom> "You are the worst son EVER!" <pause> "Maybe she'd rather have some Temptations..." (because really, I am no better than the Moose)
I would like to note that I do not endorse feeding your mother cat food on Mother's Day. Or any other day.