Moira: You know, when I was a young girl, my sister and I baked bread from scratch, in a kitchen half this size.
David: Do I wanna hear this story?
Moira: I could make a bed, I could fix a wobbly table, or start a car without a key. Then I met your father, and suddenly I had people to do everything for me. And I assumed that I would maintain my proficiencies, should I ever, God forbid, need them. But no, I have lost all my skills. And now I know how it feels to be utterly helpless, like you, and your sister.
David: I don't know if I'd call us "helpless."
Moira: No need to make me feel better.