Tim: Come on. Stand up.
Jill: Stand up?
Tim: Stand up. Put your right arm up. Put your left arm... [Jill chuckles] Put your left arm on the tool.
Jill: The wrench?
Tim: The wrench.

Tim: That wrench has gotta be around here someplace. You know, it just didn't get up and walk away, Jill.
Jill: OK, you're right. I'm ready to talk. I sneak down here at night, take all your tools, go out to the backyard, put 'em in a big pile, and dance around 'em naked.
Tim: What time would that be?
Jill: Sometime right after you go to sleep.

Jill: Tim, what do you know about installing a satellite dish?
Tim: It's simple. Mount it, point it straight up. Any man can do that.
Jill: Yeah, but... But it has to stay up longer than ten seconds.

Randy: Do you think I have girls' hands?
Jill: What?
Randy: Jason Loomis says I have hands like his sister, only smaller.
Jill: That is ridiculous. Look at these hands. They're strong, well-defined. With these hands, you could be a painter or a surgeon. A concert pianist... [Randy shakes his head] A football player, karate champ, lumberjack, test pilot, construction worker...
Randy: Thanks, Mom.

Tim: "Touch Me in the Morning". Diana Ross.
Jill: I'll touch you in the afternoon if you think of the name of the song.
Tim: I remember the song that we heard in the back of my Corvair steaming the windows.
Jill: So do I. "The Minute Waltz."

Tim: OK, now put the wrench on the coupling at the end of the trap.
Jill: You mean this thing here?
Tim: No, no, no. That connects the elbow to the drain pipe and the flange.
Jill: "Flange"? Who comes up with all these stupid names?
Tim: I'm sorry, honey. It's the little silvery thingy at the bottom, right down in...
Jill: You don't have to be sarcastic, you know. You're using all these technical terms.
Tim: This is practically baby talk.
Jill: Oh, oh, excuse me. I guess I forgot that Mark's first three words were "Mommy", "Daddy" and "flange".

Jill: "Insert the first two poles into the two sleeves. After getting two complete poles through the sleeves, you place the aluminum-tipped end into the grommet of the floor webbing loop." That's this.
Tim: Floor webbing... This. Okay.
Jill: Yeah. "By now it should be partially erect."
Both: The tent.

Jill: Honey, I was just making this list, and, you know, I don't think that all this bad luck is just because of that chain letter.
Tim: You don't, do you?
Jill: No, listen to this. In the last month, you have done the following. Backed a pickup truck into a house, almost electrocuted yourself three times, nailed your shoe into the floor, and glued your head to a table.
Tim: What's your point?
Jill: Well, the point is, it's not the chain letter that's bringing you bad luck. It's you. You're a klutz. Isn't that great?
Tim: Honey, I'm thrilled.

Jill: Well, I don't think he listens to me at all. I told him about this event that we're going to three times, and he acts like I never said anything.
Wilson: Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm.
Jill: I don't know how I could have been clearer. I told him I was getting his tux cleaned. I told him about the hors d'oeuvres we were having Saturday night. I even circled it on the calendar. I did everything except sit him down and say, "Tim, we are going to a fundraiser Saturday night." Oh God, I never did that. Oh, man! I can't believe it. All of this arguing, and he was right. Oh, no. I feel terrible. This is all my fault. Well, I should apologize to him. Thank you, Wilson. You've really been a big help. [goes back inside]
Wilson: Hmm. Somehow it's always easier with Jill.

Jill: Robbie, can I give you just a little piece of advice?
Robin: No.
Jill: Well, you're gonna hear it anyway. Marriage is about one thing - compromise. And guess who gets to do most of that?
Both: We do.
Jill: It's 70-30. Unless you count childbirth, and then it's 97-3.