Jay: [to the tree] Hey, Dede, it's me, Jay. Just wondering how you're doing.
Mitchell: Dad?
Jay: Uh, it's Saturday here.
Jerry: You're not leaving a voicemail. From the heart.
Jay: Yeah. What I wanted to say is I could've handled a lot of things better in our relationship. Mm. I guess I wasn't a very good partner. I dug in a lot. I never thought of things from your point of view. I guess I always needed to get my own way. Anyway, you were a good woman, and we had some fun times, especially in the sack. Never had a problem there.
Jerry: Careful. That's my wife you're talking to.
Jay: Oh, sorry, Jerr, yeah. Okay. I hope you grow up into a nice, big tree, a-and I hope you don't get any of those beetles that are killing everything. And when you settle in in a little while, maybe I'll bring Joe over and he can climb you. Amen.

Cal: [chewing gum, mumbling indistinctly]
Cameron: What? What is it, boy?
Cal: [mumbling indistinctly]
Cameron: Mitchell? H-He's in trouble? Trapped in a hole? Show me.

Jerry: Jay, this is for you.
Jay: Oh, God. Is that her?
Jerry: No, no, no. Apparently this is a jar of sand from your honeymoon in Miami Beach.
Jay: Oh, yeah. We stayed at the Fontainebleau. Guess who we took an elevator with? Jackie Gleason. I told him we were the honeymooners, and, as a joke, he threatened to punch Dede to the moon. [laughs]
Claire: Why is that funny?
Jay: Well, that's my point. It wasn't right.

Jerry: Claire, your mom wanted you to have her old sports car.
Claire: Oh, great.
Jerry: And Mitchell, you get to keep her jewelry.
Mitchell: Oh, so Claire gets a car, and I get a, uh, box of turquoise.
Claire: Want to trade?
Mitchell: No. No, it's fine. I have a preteen girl at home, and she likes to play dress-up. And, you know, Lily might like it, too.

Jerry: Mitchell and Claire, Dede wanted you two to decide who gets to keep her. Sorry, Jay. She left you out of this one.
Jay: No worries, Jerr. I'm good with the sand.
Claire: Hang on. Uh, what do you mean, "gets to keep her"?
Jerry: That's Dede. We had her ashes organically fused with the root ball.
Mitchell: That is so Mom.
Claire: I know. Setting up one last thing for us to fight over, because neither of us want that tree.
Mitchell: Because both of us want the tree. What?
Claire: That was easy.

Alex: Look. Nana left us her old toy box from her house.
Haley: Aww, bless her hoarding heart.
Luke: Remember how I used to hide in here and pop out like a scary monster? I had so much promise back then.

Luke: Oh. Lookie here, Alex. The source of your greatest shame: the puzzle that I solved but you never did.
Alex: [chuckles] Who cares? We were just dumb kids.
Haley: Uh, no. We were dumb kids, and you were the genius. That must eat away at you.
Alex: [scoffs] Please. I'm top of my class at a prestigious university, and I co-invented a technology that has applications to astrophysics and medicine. And give me that damn puzzle!

Phil: Come on, honey. Let's keep it.
Claire: It reminds me of how crazy my mom could be. I mean, what mother has a car like this?
Phil: How's this? We take it for one drive. If you're not smiling by the time we come back, we get rid of it.
Claire: One drive?
Phil: One drive.
Claire: One drive.
Phil: One drive.
Claire: Ugh, she used to double-buckle me and Mitchell into the front seat. Between that and the homemade electric blankets, it's a wonder we're still alive.

Jay: What's with the plumber? Did Joe flush his Aquaman down the toilet again?
Gloria: No. When my cousins left, they said that the hot water in the guest bedroom was not working. The plumber just said that there's nothing wrong. Someone turned it off.
Jay: Probably Joe. So, what are we thinking? No play dates for a week?
Gloria: I know it was you. You wanted them gone, and you froze them out.
Jay: I'm admitting nothing, but you said one cousin would be here for one day, and there were three here for a week.
Gloria: I never said that.

Jay: Why is Jerry still here?
Gloria: I know. Something must be wrong. He's sitting in the car like a sad little man. We have to go and invite him in.
Jay: No, no, no, no. He'll move off eventually. Glor... Street sweeping is Thursday.