Jill: I tell you what. I am going to fix the stove and I will fix the ice dispenser.
Tim: You are so cute.
Jill: What? You don't think I can do it?
Tim: No, I have a lot of faith. Lot of faith in a woman who uses tool terms like "whatchamacallit," "thingamajig" and my personal favorite, "doohickey."

Jill: What is it with men, Wilson? You know, they'll spend hours on an engine, putting up a satellite dish, but they won't take five minutes and fix a simple little doorknob.
Wilson: Well, Jill, I find your question astute and sagacious.
Tim: Give it to her, Wilson.
Jill: That's a compliment, Tim.
Wilson: See, Jill, historically, men have been drawn to the jobs that bring them attention and glory, like discovering new lands or winning wars. Women, however, have been expected to work quietly and steadily to maintain the home.
Jill: But that's a long time ago, Wilson. I mean, times are changing. Women are working, men are staying at home, both are working. Roles are reversing.
Wilson: Trenchant and perspicacious.
Tim: Now, that can't possibly be a compliment.
Wilson: I'm afraid so, Tim.
Tim: Oh, you did it to me again.

Wilson: A wise man once said, "Every job has one thing in common. It has to be done and it has to be done well."
Jill: Well, that's kinda nice.
Tim: Who said that?
Wilson: You did.
Tim: [grunts] I used to be a pretty smart fella.

Tim: Brad and I regapped the plugs, fixed the ignition. I'm ready to start the engine. [clears throat]
Jill: What's the matter, honey? Aren't you gonna start it?
Tim: I got goose bumps.
Jill: You want me to start it?
Tim: No, no, no. I just want to savor the moment. You know, this idea started in my head, and piece by piece, the parts started to roll in.
Jill: For the engine or your head?
Tim: No, no, no. Carburetors, from Cleveland. Yeah. Fuel pump, Tulsa. Distributor, Akron. Crankshaft, somewhere in...
Jill: Tim. Start the car.
Tim: So much for savoring the moment with my loved ones. It's time to bring the sleeping beast to life.

Tim: This would have been a real simple project, now you screwed up, it'll take me three times as long to do it.
Jill: Oh, cry me a river! If you'd fixed this in the first place, we wouldn't have this problem, would we?
Tim: So, it's my fault that you screwed it up?
Jill: Hey, this is no more screwed up than it was before you didn't fix it.
Tim: I really want to argue with that, but I have no idea what you just said to me.

Jill: You are so pathetic. Look, look. This is you doing household repairs. [grunts]
Tim: You got a tool belt on, put a little more beef in that grunt. [Jill grunts] Better.
Jill: All right. Jill asked me to fix that doorknob, but before I do any actual work, I'd better stop and think about it for a couple of hours. [scratches] OK. Enough thinking. Now... Gotta run to the hardware store and buy hundreds of dollars' worth of tools I don't need.
Tim: Whoa, whoa, whoa. There's no such thing as a tool I don't need.
Jill: OK, Jill. I bought my new tools.
Tim: [high-pitched voice] I can't believe you bought another tool you don't need.
Jill: But, before I work, I gotta clear my head. [belches]
Tim: Boy, Tim, I don't think I've ever wanted you more.

Tim: How'd you find him? How do you know what kind of quality work he does? What do you know about the guy?
Jill: That's why I called Al. He recommended him very highly.
Tim: What? You told Al I needed a repairman in my own home?
Jill: Well, he didn't laugh that long.
Tim: He's gonna blab it all over Tool Time. What am I supposed to say to my die-hard fans?
Jill: Put them both in the front seat of the car and tell them the truth.

Jill: You promised me you were gonna fix that thing.
Tim: I got my belt out, I'm half-done.
Jill: That's you, Tim. You're always half-done.
Tim: We had three kids, didn't we?
Jill: We planned on six.

Tim: Hey, hey, hey, I'm trying to work on the engine out here. What's going on?
Randy: Dad, tell Mark to keep his grubby hands out of the Cocoa Busters.
Tim: Mark!
Mark: But I want the 3-D baseball cards.
Tim: [inquisitive grunt] 3-D? I'll get 'em out of there.
Randy: Dad, they're not in there. You have to eat eight boxes and send in the proofs-of-purchase.
Tim: For a normal family that would pose a problem, but we're Taylors. Let's pig out. Open those hoods. [Tim pours cereal into the boys' mouths]
Jill: Very classy.
Tim: And the good news is, hon, they got 2% of our daily minimum requirement of riboflavin.
Jill: Whoa. Riboflavin. Can't get enough of that.

Jill: OK. I tell you what. You don't want me to do the jobs? When are you going to fix the ice dispenser?
Tim: Soon.
Jill: When are you gonna fix the burner?
Tim: Soon.
Jill: When, Tim? When?
Tim: Soon, Jill, soon.
Jill: So, what? You're just gonna wait until the burner backs up and the whole house explodes?
Tim: We've survived explosions before, huh?