Debra: What are you, out of your mind? You're gonna pass this up?
Ray: What are you talking about? I'm here. I'm helping you with the kids, with the medicine. All right, not the medicine.
Debra: Get Terry back on the phone before he hires somebody else.
Ray: Is this a test? Yeah. Yeah. This is like the time you told me I could go to Bernie's bachelor party.
Debra: It's not like Terry Bradshaw is going to give you a lap dance, Ray.
Ray: What are you saying? I don't get you. What, aren't you upset that I don't know the kids as well as you?
Debra: No, Ray. I mean, you did your best. I needed you this morning and you were there for me. And now, I need you tonight to go and make the money.
Ray: All right, all right, I'll call him. But am I a bad father because I don't know who the kids' doctor is or what Ally has for lunch, or how long you breast-fed the twins for? By the way, I told the doctor you stopped, right?
Debra: Yeah, six months ago.
Ray: Right, I thought it was a little less crowded around there.