Bob Day: [on the phone] Hey, bub. What's the holdup? It's been six months since I gave you my blessing. When am I gonna hear my daughter cry? Huh? I think I deserve to hear my daughter cry.
Nick: Bob, I'm proposing tonight. I've been planning on doing it all along when we got back home to the loft.
Bob Day: The loft? You visit every possible romantic proposal spot on the planet, and you pick that dump?
Nick: Because it's where we met, Bob. Look, I've got a whole plan. I haven't told anybody. So I mailed the ring from Europe. So when we're looking at the mail, I'll say, like, "Check this one out. This one's from Turkey. You should open it, Jess."
Bob Day: You mailed my grandmother's ring from Turkey?
Nick: I hired an Au pair. He was going there, anyhow.
Bob Day: A male Au pair?
Nick: Yes, a boy Au pair.
Bob Day: Look, look, I better get a phone call tonight with the news that my daughter has a fiancé.
Nick: Bob...
Bob Day: I don't even care if it's not you. Okay?

Cece: "My name is Ruth Bader Parikh-Schmidt, and I am three today." Can you say that?
Ruth: Daddy's butt!
Cece: Close enough. Okay, but where is Daddy's butt? I got to get to the office.
Schmidt: Daddy's butt has been bleaching all outdoor playing surfaces. [removes face mask] You could prepare a chicken on that slide.

Schmidt: Settle down! Settle down or I'm gonna turn off the music! Try playing musical chairs with no music! It's just chairs.