Marshall: Food going in isn't the problem. It's what's coming out... or not coming out. He hasn't pooped in three days.
Lily: Yeah. Normally, I wouldn't wish one of his dirty diapers on my worst enemy, but now I kind of miss poppin'
the hood in the morning and finding that first big, juicy, black...
Ted: Lily! I'm eating chili. I'm eating chili, Lily.
Lily: Confetti. Big blast of confetti. Normally, the kid's a confetti machine. He's Rip Taylor in a diaper.
Marshall: I have a feeling at this point, Rip Taylor is Rip Taylor in a diaper.
Ted: And with that image, dinner is done.