At dinner, Lillian made a face and politely said her chicken didn't taste good. It was a new recipe so I was concerned. Maybe the chicken was bad or something.
Melanie: Oh really. What does the chicken taste like?
Lillian: (in the kindest of voices) Well mom, it tastes like poop smells.
Clearly, you shouldn't say that, but she was not rude. I dissolved into laughter. I couldn't help it. It did taste like poop smells. Don't tell Peter he hasn't had it yet. Yikes!
Also at dinner, Grayson was talking very seriously to himself in a whisper. Here is what I overheard.
Grayson: Oh dear Lord, please don't let me forget my name or my cup or my plate.
I have no idea what that was about, but again I was laughing uncontrollably. He cracked up, too.