Frasier: It's now 7:45. At this precise moment, she should be receiving a jeroboam of chilled champagne.
Martin: You're really laying it on thick, aren't ya?
Frasier: Oh, God, Dad, you don't know the half of it. This morning, she was awakened by a string quartet on her porch. Then, when Monica arrived at her office, there were seven dozen roses on her desk. A dozen for every day that I've known her.