Schmidt: Let me ask you a question.
Cece: Uh-huh.
Schmidt: We're at my funeral. [Cece groans] "Ka-thunk" goes my coffin. Shovel dirt, shovel dirt, shovel dirt. You wipe the schmutz off your pretty black dress, and stopwatch is ticking. How long do you wait to remarry?
Cece: I don't know, three years.
Schmidt: Three years? Three year... Not even a full presidential? Your new husband would still be finding my bobby pins in couch cushions.