Yes

Several minutes and two shelves later, James felt a mixture of entertainment and sadness as he looked at the increasing number of things she'd thrown around the house. Several containers had failed to stay closed, and now pasta and tiny sausages littered his house. He found himself trying to work out what sounded like a reasonable bribe for a maid service to keep quiet about the alien in his house. He was snapped out of his daze at the sound of a rising trill, which he saw was paired with a large smile. She'd found a container of yogurt he'd forgotten about.

"Wait, don't eat that one I-", too late. He'd tried to move to block the opening but she was already pouring the contents into her mouth. He could make out several large green clumps, and many more white fuzzy pancakes that littered the container. Well, he said to himself, now I get to see what alien puke looks like...

She finished the sad excuse for a meal and sat down against some nearby cupboards, keeping her eyes on him but visibly calm now. She shifted when he crawled away to start cleaning, cocking her head and making a series of odd toned chatters. He mumbled to himself while he cleaned the noodles and sausages, using paper towels to mop up what he could of the various sauces and juices that had no doubt stained his carpet.

"Great...tiny wieners everywhere, my spaghetti's ruined, shrimp's lost, is-is that...aw, what do you have against potatoes you had to make it squish?", he turned to her from the living room with a questioning face, holding the remains of a spud that had only gotten in the way. "Really? Everything else gets tossed, but this you chuck hard enough to smash?" Her eyes moved between his face and the lost tuber.

"We have got to find a way to communicate..."