Cliff: Oh, hey, Woody, here's my video camera.
Woody: Oh, wow! Looks kinda complicated.
Cliff: That's, that's just the case, Woody.
Woody: Uh-oh.
Cliff: No, Woody, it's not as complicated as it looks. I'll, uh, I'll talk ya through it.
Carla: Uh-oh.

Sam: Woody, come on, man. This is the '90s. You know, plenty of people have babies without being married. [off Norm's look] Oh, what? You got a problem with that?
Norm: Well, if you want the truth, I do think it's a little irresponsible. And remember, this is coming from Norm Peterson.
Sam: I can't believe this. You guys feel the same way?
Paul: I kind of do.
Cliff: Me, too.
Phil: Move to California, you freaks.
Sam: Guys, guys, come on. I mean, look at me. I'm not getting any younger and neither is... Well, it's true. I mean, look at how many years we've been wasting looking for the perfect relationship. And what'd it get us? Nothing. At least you and I are friends. You know, we care for each other. And right about now, that's looking good. Based on that, we- we want to hang out together and have a family.
Rebecca: Yeah.
Woody: Sam, if you feel that way, why don't you just go ahead and get married?
Sam: Ooh, that's an awful big step, Woody.

Sam: Hey, Carla's still rounding up the kids. We could run for it.
Rebecca: Sam, no, don't worry. Carla's always exaggerating about her kids. We'll be just fine.
Carla: Okay, the kids will be out in a minute. Just sign this.
Rebecca: What is it?
Carla: It's your standard release form. The insurance company requires it. Just sign here and initial the spots.

Carla: Okay, kids, come on in!
Rebecca: Oh aren't they adorable? Look, they're all lined up.
Sam: Bet it's not the first time, either.

Rebecca: Look at you. You look so cute. It's like The Sound of Music. Oh, I wish I had a whistle.
Ludlow: Here, Miss Howe.
Rebecca: Oh, thank you. I always wanted to do this. Okay. Now, when I blow the whistle, you say your name. [whistle trills]
Serafina: Serafina. And I'm spending the night with my boyfriend. [slams the whistle into Rebecca's mouth]
Rebecca: [gags]

Rebecca: Now isn't it more fun having this time with your family than going on some silly old date?
Serafina: You better let me go. My boyfriend's a retired cop.
Rebecca: No, no, no, no, you'll, you'll want to stay. You'll miss the games.
Serafina: I'm missing them now.

Sam: All right, everybody fed?
Kids: Yes, Mr. Malone.
Sam: Fine. Now may I please have my pants back?
Anne Marie: Check the oven.

Rebecca: Oh, what's the matter, Lud?
Ludlow: I can't find Mr. Tibbington.
Rebecca: Oh, honey, don't cry. Who is Mr. Tibbington? Is that your kitty cat?
Ludlow: No. He's my eight-foot boa constrictor.
Rebecca: Well, we'll certainly keep our eyes out for him.

Rebecca: Wait, wait hold up... [muttering] There's only seven of us. Where's Anthony?
Gino: He's out doing something.
Rebecca: What's he doing?
Gino: Time.
Rebecca: Wait. Stop eating for a minute. Stop eating. Here we are, at the head of the table just like real parents. I think we should say grace. Now I know we're not the real parents, but... Sam, don't play footsie with me when I'm saying grace.
Sam: I'm not playing footsie.
Rebecca: Oh, it's Mr. Tibbing... [screams] ton!

Rebecca: I'm going to leave!
Sam: No, no, come on, we can't quit. Now, what are you going to do listen, when we have kids of our own? Are you going to quit when the going gets tough?
Rebecca: I don't know.
Sam: Well, no! Honey, listen. We're almost up to bath time, then we'll be home free. Okay?
Rebecca: Okay.
Sam: All right, now, uh, who's first?
Gino: I'm ready for my bath, Miss Howe. And I'm a dirty, dirty boy.
Rebecca: [shrieking, sobbing] Ah, Sam!
Sam: Would you get over there!