I was making dinner tonight when the doorbell rang. It was my 4-yr. old's best friend, Emily, who lives 3 doors down and her Dad. They invited her over to play and for dinner.
When she returned, this was our conversation.
Me: Olivia, did you have fun?
Olivia: Yes, but I didn't like the yucky food Emily's mommy made.
Me: What was it?
Olivia: It was the same yucky food I had last time I was there.
Me: Which was?
Olivia: Bread with yucky stuff on it and yucky chicken.
Me: But you were still polite, right? You didn't tell Emily's mom it was yucky, did you?
Olivia: No, mommy. Don't worry. I didn't tell her it was yucky. Instead, I told her that it tasted like poop.