(Bree is ironing a tablecloth.)
Orson: What's all this?
Bree: Oh Andrew thought it would be nice to have a formal dinner tomorrow night.
Orson: Well if it's a formal dinner why aren't we using your grandmother's tablecloth?
Bree: For Melina? She'd probably blow her nose on it. No, I will not let that woman defile Nana's lace.