Reese: What's this about?
Victor: I want to show you something. Something just for you. I have waited many years for this moment, but now that you are old enough, I want to give you something close to my heart.
Reese: Wow, is this stuff real?
Victor: From the big war.
Reese: Wow, is this a real gas mask?
Victor: Gas mask, yes. Field glasses... chocolate K-rations. You get yourself nice girl with this, I tell you.
Reese: This is so awesome, Grandpa. You're the best. This is so cool. [pulls pin from grenade]
Victor: God in heaven!
Reese: What?!
Victor: This is live grenade! Do not let go of handle or we both die.
Reese: I don't want to die!
Victor: Don't worry, you won't. All we have to do is find, find the pin. Find the pin, put the pin back in, and then everything will fine.

Lois: What happened here?!
Victor: We can't be sure.
Reese: Grandpa gave me a live grenade and it was going to blow and I didn't mean to drop it. But Malcolm threw it in the fridge.
Lois: You gave my son a live grenade? You brought live ammunition into this house? What is the matter with you people?! Are you completely insane?!

Eric: Come on, Francis. We got to hit the road or we're not going to make bed check.
Francis: I don't care. I came all the way to New Orleans, I got all these beads... I'm not leaving until I get some action.
[The middle-aged maid lifts up her top]
Maid: Now, if you don't mind, I need the room.
Francis: Okay, I'm good.

Reese: Nuh-uh!
Malcolm: Uh-huh!
Reese: We'll let Mom settle this. The loser licks the tub drain.
Malcolm: Deal. Mom, whose tongue's longer? [both stick their tongues out]

Victor: Wait a minute, this can't be Reese.
Reese: Yep.
Victor: Uh, what's the matter with you? Don't you clean behind your ears? [removes note] Look what I found!
Reese: Ha-ha, five bucks! Thanks, Grandpa.
Malcolm: So, Grandpa, did you have a nice drive down?
Victor: Huh?
Malcolm: I said, did you have a nice drive down?
Victor: I can't hear this one. He sounds like girl.

Lois: Uh, Dewey, you remember your grandparents, don't you, sweetie?
[flashback:]
Victor: He needs changing.
Ida: He always needs changing. You take him.
Victor: Ooh, let him sit in it. That will teach him. I don't want to take him; he smells. [baby falls; baby cries]
Ida: Ooh, that's what happens to little boys who squirm.
[present: Dewey runs away]

Man: [on TV] It's estimated that as many as 30,000 young people have descended on New Orleans to join in the annual Mardi Gras festivities. At this hour police have been called in to try and...
Eric: Look at those animals going berserk, tearing each other's clothes off. Those are people with no respect for authority.
Francis: Eric's right, that could be us. If we left right now we could be in New Orleans in five hours.
Drew: How we going to get there?
Joe: And where are we going to stay?
Francis: Gentlemen, you quibble with me about logistics when I'm offering you 48 hours of non-stop debauchery? This could be the greatest weekend of our lives.

Lois: Well, it's nice to have something in the house that works.
Hal: Yeah. You know, maybe in their dark, twisted world, this is how your parents show love. Hey, Victor, pretty great, huh?
Victor: My descending colon's inflamed. What's great?
Lois: Uh, listen, Dad, I just mailed off the mortgage and car payments, and what with buying the new refrigerator and all, we should probably get that check from you right away.
Victor: About that... your mother and I decided it's no good for family to give money to family. Always ends badly. [drinks] Pulp! Who buys orange juice with pulp?

Lois: So, we thought the perfect thing might be if you could stay a little longer and keep an eye on the kids.
Victor: I don't know. Mother and I should go.
Ida: We sense tension.
Lois: No!
Hal: Oh, no!
Lois: Oh, no, no, no, there's no, there's no tension. We just, uh, we have a couple of hectic weeks coming up and we just hoped that you could stay a little longer.
Victor: Of course. We do anything for you. We are a family.

Boy #1: Hey, look at the mama's boy.
Ida: You going to take that?
Malcolm: What?
Ida: Hey, you boys! Come back here and say that.
Malcolm: Grandma, what are you doing?
Boy #1: Who's this? Your 90-year-old bodyguard?
Malcolm: No, no, it's okay. She's kidding. [bullies walk away]
Ida: Nushkaya zibhat shinka! [picks up rock and throws it at the bully]
Boy #1: Ow!
Malcolm: Grandma. Oh, geez.