Wilson: So, I really don't mean to intrude, but I thought I might be able to offer my perspective on what you were talking about.
Tim: Al's mom's arm wobble?
Wilson: Oh, no, no, Tim. I'm talking about the problem that you're having with your mother.
Al: You know, when you finish talking about Tim's mother, I'd like to talk about my relationship with my mother.
Wilson: Well, I'm sorry, Al, but I don't think I have that kind of time today.
Tim: [to Al] Well, order me something, and I don't want the bean turd.

Tim: Can we talk about last night?
Lucille: Oh, it's OK, Tim. I'm sorry we got into it. I know we both love each other, and that's enough for me.
Tim: Well, um, what if it's not enough for me? I really think we should talk about this.
Lucille: Tim, I don't want you to have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. I understand that.
Tim: Look, Mom, I'm really sorry I cut you off when you were trying to talk to me, but I'm just not used to you coming to me with stuff like this.
Lucille: And I'm not used to having to go to anybody with stuff like this. It's just that, of all my boys, I was hoping that you were the one that I could open up to.
Tim: Why me?
Lucille: You've always been the strong one in the family.
Tim: I have?

Tim: Oh, come on, Mom. You're the strong one. I still can't believe how strong you were when Dad died.
Lucille: Oh, I had no choice. I had a house full of boys without a father. I just did what I had to do. God. Sometimes I don't know how I got up in the morning. I was so empty. And I felt so bad that I couldn't give you boys the kind of attention I knew you needed.
Tim: Mom...
Lucille: Especially you, Tim.
Tim: What do you mean especially me?
Lucille: Well, you took it the hardest when Dad died. You kept everything bottled up inside. Maybe that's why you can't talk about anything serious without making a joke.
Tim: Oh, I've gotten over that now. Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh.
Lucille: I just wish that I could've done a better job of helping you through those times.
Tim: You did a great job.
Lucille: Oh, I don't know.
Tim: If it hadn't been for you, I would've never gotten through it.
Lucille: Oh... thanks, Tim.

Tim: Mom...
Lucille: Yeah?
Tim: You know what? I want you to talk to me about stuff. I don't wanna miss knowing you the way I missed knowing Dad.
Lucille: I don't want that, either, Tim.
Tim: Boy, it kills me that I didn't get to know him.
Lucille: You know, you two would've gotten such a kick out of each other. I mean, when I watch you working on that hot rod, I keep thinking, "There's something Dad would've loved doing with him."
Tim: You really think we would've gotten along?
Lucille: Oh, like a nut and a bolt. And I think we know who the nut is. Oh, Tim. I love you, Tim.
Tim: I love you.

Lucille: Do you know what I dread most about moving?
Jill: Leaving your memories behind?
Lucille: No. Leaving Hector the handyman behind. [Jill laughs] Whenever Tim pulls out of my driveway after fixing something, I speed dial Hector.
Jill: Believe me, I understand. And don't tell Tim that I gave you this number. This is Joe the handyman.
Lucille: Oh, thank you.
Tim: Oh, boy. Wife and mother in the same room. [grunts] Can't be good for me.
Jill: Your mother was just saying how nice it'll be when she's living close by.
Tim: Yeah. I'm nearby. I can stop by and fix things any time you want.
Lucille: Gee, thanks, Tim. I can't tell you what a feeling of security that gives me. Now I can just buy a house and not worry about a thing.
Tim: Really? You gave her Joe's number, didn't you?
Jill: Yep.
Tim: Good, 'cause he's a lot better than Hector.

Lucille: You were waiting for me, weren't you?
Tim: No. I was working on the hot rod. What were you doing out so late?
Lucille: When you used to go out late, what were you doing?
Tim: Well, I... Let's not go... Let's not go there.
Lucille: Art and I closed down the bar. He's so easy to talk to. Do you know it has been ages since I've spent time alone with a man?
Tim: [whistles] Let's not go there, either.
Lucille: I think I'll head up to bed. Do you mind if I go there?

Marty: Hey, Mr. Leonard. How are ya? I didn't know you were in town.
Mr. Leonard: Yeah, I'm visiting my daughter.
Marty: Oh, great. What are you doing here?
Mr. Leonard: I hate my son-in-law.

Mr. Leonard: Timmy, come on, it's 2:00. You gonna feed me?
Tim: As soon as I finish, I'll get you a sandwich.
Mr. Leonard: Oh, come on. It took you three years to build the last hot rod. I'm not going to wait that long for liverwurst. I'll help myself.

Jill: Hello, Lucille.
Lucille: Hi.
Jill: Oh, you look great. How was your trip?
Lucille: Fast. I had the pedal on the metal all the way.
Tim: Like mother, like son.
Jill: Yeah, except I don't think she sticks her head out the window yelling, "Yippee."

Lucille: OK, listen. Enough of this kissy stuff. I want you to take my bags and put 'em upstairs on the bed. And here's a $10 tip.
Brad: Well, I guess that's five for me and five for you.
Mark: What about me?
Randy: You get to carry the bags.