Grandfather: Hey. Logan. How about some chocolate peanut butter milkshake? Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum, yum . . . .
Daughter: Dad. What are you feeding my child? [What?] He shouldn’t eat anything but rice and plain bread. He’s not supposed to eat anything else right now.
Grandfather: Oh, this rice is so good, Logan. Yum, yuck, yuck. Sorry, Logan. But hey, look. Your mom’s in the other room. Let’s forget the rice for a minute. One bite of this chocolate milkshake won’t hurt. Here. Take a small bite, no a BIG bite . . . yeah!
Daughter: How does my child like the rice?
Grandfather: Well. . . . Logan. Look. You have chocolate all over your face. Let me clean up your face before your mom comes in here.
Daughter: Dad. Is he not eating? Do I need to come in there?
Grandfather: No, no, no. We’re fine. Thanks. Logan and I are just talking about politics, the stock market. You know, the economic turmoil in the world. Just light stuff like that.
Daughter: Oh, yeah, that’s all he needs. I . . . I’m coming in there.
Grandfather: No, no, no. No need. Oh . . .
Daughter: Dad! What have you been giving him?
Grandfather: We’ve just been sharing some of this chocolate rice, uh, milkshake!
Daughter: You know it doesn’t come in flavors, right? It just comes in rice. Uh, look. Wash his face. We have to go to the store. Get him cleaned up.
Grandfather: Okay. Logan. I guess I’ll have to finish the milkshake myself.