Marty: Listen, Gracie, why don't you just trade dolls with Claire, okay?
Gracie: Do I have to?
Jill: Well, that's not really fair. I mean, we sort of did give that doll to Gracie.
Tim: Yeah.
Marty: If it'll make her sister happy, I mean, does it really make a difference? Come on, honey.
Gracie: Okay.
Marty: That's a girl. I love you guys.

Marty: Hey, I'm home. Where are the birthday girls?
Claire: Daddy! Daddy!
Marty: Claire, honey. What's wrong? Come here.
Claire: Aunt Jill's being mean to me.
Marty: Oh, sweetie, it's okay. What's going on?
Tim: She wanted to ride her bike around the house and, uh... And Jill didn't think it was a good idea.
Marty: You couldn't cut her any slack on her birthday? Come on, honey. I'll take you out for ice cream. Go get your coat and your sister, okay?
Claire: Come on, Gracie!

Jill: Marty, you're setting up a behavioral pattern where you give in to her every time she acts out.
Marty: Oh, spare me the psychobabble. I know how to handle my kids.
Jill: If you knew how to handle your kids, they'd know how to behave in our home.
Tim: You know, ice cream is starting to sound real good right now.
Jill: Look, Claire and Gracie need the security of knowing that there is a grownup in control.
Marty: That's okay. Just don't tell me how to raise my kids.
Tim: How about rocky road?
Marty: Or maybe we just shouldn't stay here. Is that what you're saying?
Jill: Oh, that would be great, Marty. Take the easy way out. Run away again.
Marty: Well, it's pretty obvious that you don't want us living here.
Jill: Oh, no, no. You're not gonna pull that on me! I love having you guys here!
Marty: And we love being here!
Tim: And I can feel the love.

Marty: Oh, no. Look, I don't have time to talk, okay? I'm way behind in my work.
Tim: Do you have time to talk if I give you a hand?
Marty: Like you can learn this job in one day. Squeeze the toy, see if it works.
Tim: Look, I know your kids are having a tough time with the separation, but you're letting them get away with murder, Marty.
Marty: Hey, you're the one that told them they could ride their bikes around the house!
Tim: That's because Claire pouted. I gave in. But you give in every time she snaps her fingers.
Marty: Oh, give me a break. The separation's really hard on them.
Tim: I know. I know. I know.
Marty: And I happen to want my kids to like me.
Tim: You're their father, not their friend. You can't let them manipulate you like this. [toy squeaks]
Marty: Well, excuse me, but I happen to think that you're the one who's being manipulated. [toys squeak]

Tim: What's that supposed to mean?
Marty: Oh, come on. Your wife sent you down here to bite my head off about something that you don't even believe. [toy squeaking]
Tim: If you think for one minute I came down here 'cause of Jill, you're dead wrong. I'm my own man. I do my own bidding. [fails to squeeze a plush toy] Hey!
Marty: Yeah? Well, I'm my own man and I don't happen to agree with what your wife [toy squeaks] sent you down here to tell me.
Tim: If you weren't such a thickhead, you'd realize she made a good point. You know what else? [toy squeaks] This is a really annoying job. [toy squeaks]
Marty: It wasn't nearly so annoying before you came down here and started breathing down my neck. [toy squeaks]
Tim: Maybe it's time I left, huh?
Man: Oh, now you're doing it? Who's a guy gotta sleep with around here to squeak toys?

Claire: I want a cookie!
Marty: Claire, no!
Tim: [enters] How's it going, Marty?
Claire: I hate you!
Marty: That answer your question?
Claire: I want a cookie!
Marty: I told you not before dinner! Now, you're in time-out! Go to your room!
Claire: No!
Marty: I said yes!
Claire: No!
Marty: I said yes!
Claire: I want to be with Mommy!

Claire: [o.s.] I'm holding my breath!
Marty: We're waiting out Claire's tantrum.
Jill: Marty, that is so good.
Claire: [o.s.] This room is stupid! This house is stupid! Everyone here is stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!
Marty: It's a dream come true.

Marty: Hi, honey.
Claire: Dad, since I missed dinner, can I please have a peanut-butter sandwich?
Marty: Sure.
Claire: Okay.
Marty: Okay.
Jill: You made it.
Marty: Thanks. I guess I did. Hey, while I'm up, can I get you anything?
Jill: Yeah. I'd love a cup of tea. That'd be great.
Tim: I could go for a peanut-butter sandwich myself. Please! Please!

Marty: Okay, girls, gotta go to work. I'm late.
Claire: Where are you working today, Daddy?
Marty: Actually, today I'm working for a governmental contractor under the auspices of the Michigan Department of Highways.
Claire: Wow.
Marty: Yeah. [to Jill] I'm fixing potholes.

Tim: Tough day out there on the blacktop?
Marty: Oh, yeah. You know, it's not filling the potholes that I mind, it's the groupies.