Mac and cheese.
Two bites? I saved three.
[groaning]
I'm not saying it was me, but if I did take one,
I only did it because Lola ate the rest of Dad's tater tot bake.
I was saving that!
I'm not coughing to eating the tater tot bake, but if I did,
it was because Luan ate the last slice of Dad's pie, which I was saving.
Actually, I didn't eat it.
Oh, my bad.
I smashed it in Lynn's face.
[groaning]
Guys, how do you not see that this is a problem?
Our fridge is like the Wild West.
Look Lincoln, nobody likes having their leftovers swiped, but we're a big family.
You can't expect to protect every little bite of food that you want.
Oh, can't I?
Hm, I really want one of those mac and cheese bites,
But Lincoln's gonna have a conniption.
Then again, watching Lincoln have a conniption is fun.
Ow!
That'll teach her.
Oh, so we're protecting our stuff now, huh?
Fine by me.
[gasping]
Ooh, one of Dad's yummy brownies!
Oh wait, didn't Luan call this?
Well, she won't mind if I just break off a little corner.
[yelling]
Ow!
The gloves are off now.
[laughing]
Luan put that there to protect her leftovers? Well I can play that game too.
[screaming]
Ah!
That's it! You guys really crossed the line this time.
If someone could gently let me down, I think I have an idea.
[groaning]
I think we can all agree, basic order needs to be restored.
So with an assist from Lisa, I came up with a plan.
Ah!
Sorry.
Per Lincoln's request, I calculated the refrigerator's cubic footage
and divided it into 11 equally-sized zones creating the optimal conditions
for what I like to call dairy detente.
Everybody gets a zone, and the genius part is
that no-one can mistake theirs for someone else's because they're color-coded.
All we have to do now is divide up Dad's leftovers and put them in our zones.
[all screaming]
I call Dad's stuffed peppers.
And I got dibs on his fried chicken!
I get his mine-strone.
Uh, Leni, it's pronounces Minestrone.
I call it mine-strone, because it's mine.
Nice job. Thanks for the assist.
You're welcome.
For payment, I will happily accept your last mac and cheese bite.
Not a chance.
Mac and cheese.
Two bites? I saved three.
[groaning]
All right, which of you vultures swiped one of my mac and cheese bites?
If you guys wanted one so badly, you should have saved some of your own.
I'm not saying it was me, but if I did take one,
I only did it because Lola ate the rest of Dad's tater tot bake.
I was saving that!
I'm not coughing to eating the tater tot bake, but if I did,
it was because Luan ate the last slice of Dad's pie, which I was saving.
Actually, I didn't eat it.
Oh, my bad.
I smashed it in Lynn's face.
[groaning]
Guys, how do you not see that this is a problem?
Our fridge is like the Wild West.
Look Lincoln, nobody likes having their leftovers swiped, but we're a big family.
You can't expect to protect every little bite of food that you want.
Oh, can't I?
No, you can't.
Hm, I really want one of those mac and cheese bites,
But Lincoln's gonna have a conniption.
Then again, watching Lincoln have a conniption is fun.
Ow!
That'll teach her.
Oh, so we're protecting our stuff now, huh?
Fine by me.
[gasping]
Ooh, one of Dad's yummy brownies!
Oh wait, didn't Luan call this?
Well, she won't mind if I just break off a little corner.
[yelling]
Ow!
The gloves are off now.
[laughing]
Luan put that there to protect her leftovers? Well I can play that game too.
[screaming]
Ah!
That's it! You guys really crossed the line this time.
I'd say that line was crossed when this happened, bruh.
- Or this. - Or this.
Gah-gah!
This is crazy, we can't go on like this.
If someone could gently let me down, I think I have an idea.
[groaning]
I think we can all agree, basic order needs to be restored.
So with an assist from Lisa, I came up with a plan.
Ah!
Sorry.
Per Lincoln's request, I calculated the refrigerator's cubic footage
and divided it into 11 equally-sized zones creating the optimal conditions
for what I like to call dairy detente.
Everybody gets a zone, and the genius part is
that no-one can mistake theirs for someone else's because they're color-coded.
[all oohing]
All we have to do now is divide up Dad's leftovers and put them in our zones.
[all screaming]
I call Dad's stuffed peppers.
And I got dibs on his fried chicken!
I get his mine-strone.
Uh, Leni, it's pronounces Minestrone.
I call it mine-strone, because it's mine.
Nice job. Thanks for the assist.
You're welcome.
For payment, I will happily accept your last mac and cheese bite.
Not a chance.