Lois: It's baby Moses in the bullrushes. And I started to think about that story, where the mother has to take her little one and send him down the river forever to be raised by someone else. And I wanted to be that mom. Hal... I don't like this baby.
Hal: Are you serious?
Lois: I know it's terrible. I don't deserve to be a mother. I'm supposed to be feeling all this perfect motherly love, and it's not there. It is just not there.
Hal: I can't believe you're saying this.
Lois: I know it's horrible.
Hal: You really don't remember, do you?
Lois: Remember what?
Hal: Honey, you've hated all our babies. You couldn't stand the sight of any of them for at least two months.
Lois: What?
Hal: Well, Reese, six months, but he was a nipple-biter, so I didn't blame you. You told me to leave Francis at the county fair so he could be raised by cows.
Lois: Oh, my God.
Hal: It's just that you're so tired and, I mean, this all seems so overwhelming, but believe me, in a few weeks you are going to love this baby as much as anyone has ever loved a baby.