Lois: Well, the redness is going down. I think you can compete just fine.
Dewey: Why don't you just cut the act, Mom? You got what you wanted.
Lois: What are you talking about?
Dewey: You don't like watching me be successful, because it reminds you that you never did anything with your life. And now, instead of taking joy in your kids' accomplishments, you undermine us so we won't show you up. Maybe it's unconscious, maybe you know you're doing it, but that's what's been going on this whole trip.
Lois: So what?
Dewey: Huh?
Lois: You think you're the first kid in the world whose parents ever sabotaged him? Please, Dewey, parents undermine their children all the time.
Hal: My dad told me I would never amount to anything and live a life of hardship and constant disappointment.
Dewey: Wait. We're talking about Mom.
Lois: Well, you shouldn't be. This is your life. Crap flies at you. You got to learn to deal with it. Besides, which story would you rather tell? The one where you show up at a contest, play something and get a prize, or the one where your family torpedoes you and even though you are crippled and blind, you still come through to win first place?
Dewey: I guess the second one's a better story.
Lois: Of course it is.