Debra: It seems like it was just yesterday Ally was so nice cute little smile, little blonde curls.
Marie: I have blonde curls.
Ray: Yeah, you do, Ma. You do.

Debra: We would like to discuss, uh, what she could do to improve.
Mr. Putnam: What she could do to improve. Well, like I tell the other 30 kids I have times five classes a day, times five days a week, "Please pay attention."
Debra: Wow. So many kids. I have trouble with just the one.

Ray: Well if "X" equals lame, that guy is four times "X."

Ray: You know, I know teachers like this. He obviously doesn't understand children.
Debra: Oh, and you do?
Ray: I know why Ally hates math.
Debra: Why?
Ray: Because this guy thinks math is the whole world, and and he takes it out on the kids when they hate it like they're supposed to.

Marie: You know, Debra now, don't take this as a criticism...
Robert: But brace yourself just in case.
Marie: You can't expect to impose discipline on children who have never had any. You have to teach them when they're young. That's how they learn respect.

Ray: What bothers me is that, right away, she took the teacher's side.
Debra: Oh, Ally's "F" is the teacher's fault?
Ray: Well, she's getting good grades in all her other classes. Why can't you accept that maybe it's him? I just know this Mr. Putnam. He's not a good teacher. It's it's all about him. "Math is great. Kids are bad!"
Debra: No, it's not the teacher's fault! It's Ally.
Ray: No! No, teachers are fine, but some teachers can't relate to kids.

Ray: You see that, Debra? You stick up for your kids.
Debra: You mean like your kid who's supposed to be in her room doing her math homework and whose math notebook is down here on the table? Look at the scribbles on this. "Tommy and Ally forever." "I heart Tommy." "Ally Sanders."
Ray: Oh, you see? That's not even Ally's notebook.
Debra: I'm thinking that's Tommy's last name.

Ray: Who's- Who's this Tommy Sanders?
Debra: Must be some boy at school.
Amy: Well, he's not just "some boy." I think he's "the boy."
Ray: What? What? What? What's that supposed to mean?
Amy: Ally told me about him. He has long brown hair and he's really funny and he's not stuck-up at all.
Marie: Call the police.

Debra: Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Ally talks to you?
Amy: Yeah, but just about this. And I'm not any help at all. But I think maybe one reason that Ally's not doing well in math is because Tommy's in that class. But please don't tell her I told you, because I pinkie-swore.
Debra: God, I wish she had told me.
Marie: You know, I have to say, it's very upsetting that Ally would choose to talk to Amy instead of her own grandmother.

Debra: I think we figured out what the problem is. And it's nobody's fault. It seems Ally has a little crush on Tommy Sanders and that's what's been distracting her in class. I couldn't go to her about it because she doesn't know that I know. She told my sister-in-law Amy instead of me. I guess it's because, uh, Amy is sweet and nice and not judgmental. And I'm just the mother. Anyway, that's what's going on with Ally. I just thought you'd wanna know.
Mr. Putnam: Oh. Oh, can I tell you something?
Debra: Sure.
Mr. Putnam: I don't care.
Debra: Excuse me?
Mr. Putnam: I don't care what her problem is. Your sister-in-law isn't the only one that knows that Ally likes Tommy Sanders. Everybody knows! Ally likes Tommy, and Suzy likes Tommy, and blah-blah likes Bucky, and who-who likes Beebie, and none of it has anything to do with math! Their- Their home lives and their love lives and their social lives are not my problem. That is my problem. And the answer is pi. You see? Nobody cares about the work, even though that is the business of this classroom.
Debra: Okay, I just thought you might be interested.
Mr. Putnam: I'm not. I'm not.
Debra: I understand. I just thought it might help.
Mr. Putnam: It doesn't. Anything else? I have 30 distracted chatterboxes on their way in here to get this wrong! If if you really wanna help, be a parent at home and let me be the teacher here.
Debra: Okay. I hear you. Yep, got it. Can I say one thing?
Mr. Putnam: Yes.
Debra: You are mean, and I wouldn't marry you.