We next see Richard joining Emily in the sitting room, where she is looking through a catalogue. He tells her that the noise they apparently heard was not the neighbor's Dalmatian trying to mate with their lion statues, again, but rather Logan and Rory trying to, uh, "say goodnight," as the kids call it. This gives Emily pause. She reminds Richard that Rory is growing up and in fact is about to turn twenty-one. "Oh," he snarks. "Is that what the flotilla of party planners outside our door was about?" Emily says that Logan is a rather experienced young man, and that it could be that Rory is considering "having relations" with him. But Richard scoffs at this: "Have you seen the size of that sports car he drives? There's no room to cross your legs, much less do anything else." I had to rewind several times to assure myself of the tackiness of that statement -- seriously, Grandpa. I had this slow-mo, dream-sequence nightmare for a split-second that Edward Herrmann, on my television, was going to say the actual words that there was no room to cross your legs, much less spread your legs, and my life flashed before my eyes. I realize I am compounding the tack by spelling it out like that, but I really couldn't let it pass. Emily gently has to explain to the man that the car is not necessarily the deflowering spot of choice for today's modern booty callers, and tells him that, in fact, she knows Rory and Logan have been getting cozy on the couch of the pool house lately. These people, who are housing their granddaughter born to their own teenaged-at-the-time child, do not know a sexually active girl when they see one? Somehow? Richard is mortified, and says that steps will immediately have to be taken to ward off the sex. They agree that they will do something about it the next day.