Arrietty and I have mastered a powerful feat of mind control: by simultaneously whuffling at FarmWife at the bedtime check, we can obtain a third meal. I say, "hee-hee-hooo." Arrietty says, "whee-hee-huh." I flare my left nostril. Arrietty flares her right. FarmWife's heart breaks a little, and she says, "awwwwww. My poor darlings!"
So far, our third meals have been pretty tiny—one handful of hay each—but it's a start. Give us time, and we'll sing her into a maniacal hay-tossing frenzy!