Philip: You ready for your Lamaze class?
Vivian: Philip, you mean, you actually wanna take me? I was waiting for some lame excuse. Last week, you said your dog died.
Philip: He did.
Vivian: Philip, he died 20 years ago.
Philip: Still hurts.

Will: Wait a minute, here. Look, what is the matter with y'all? I mean, this is your mother. She's having a baby. Look, Aunt Viv, if I was one of your kids... I'd be short with a square head, but I'd be more than happy to be your coach.

Danny: I can't take it! I can't take it! I can't take it! Oh.
[As Danny shakes Will, he crawls away and sticks his head out the sun roof]
Will: Help!
Man: [o.s.] Sorry, buddy, there ain't no doctor out here.
Will: Hey, man, I don't need a doctor, I need an exorcist.

Will: Hey, hey, hey. Come on, Aunt Viv. Now this is the most straight-up, honest dude I know. The day that he lies to you, may all my hair fall out.
Philip: Thank you, Will. Come on, sweetheart, we don't want to be late.
Vivian: Okay.
Philip: Okay, let me get the bags here. [groans]
Vivian: Philip. Philip, what's the matter?
Philip: It's my back, went out. You know, I think maybe if I could lay down on the couch for a couple of hours you know? [groans]
Will: Oh, my God, is my hairline receding?

Vivian: Freeze, bubble-butt!
Will: Oh, this could get ugly.
Vivian: Philip, what do you have to say for yourself?
Philip: Uh... Uh... Uh...
Will: Good answer, Admiral Stockdale.
Vivian: Philip, this is very important to me. I mean, after all, you missed all the other births of your other children.
Philip: Well, it wasn't my fault. Fathers weren't allowed in the delivery room back then.
Vivian: Well, they are now, and I would like you to share this experience.
Philip: Well, I intend to. I will be pacing up and down in the waiting room where a man's supposed to be.

Geoffrey: Ah, here's our little mother. There we go, madam, a nice glass of milk. Got to keep our strength up, eh?
Vivian: Back off, Geoffrey.
Geoffrey: Oh, pop a Midol.
Vivian: Geoffrey, I'm sorry. I'm just a little upset with Mr. Banks, that's all. He refuses to be my Lamaze coach. So I'm gonna need one of you kids to go with me.
Ashley: Sorry, homework.
Carlton: Tennis lesson.
Hilary: I just don't want to.
Geoffrey: Madam, are you sure you want another one?

Danny: Will, what's so funny?
Will: It's just that a dude named Danny Mitchell is my favorite sportswriter.
Danny: Well, you know, I could introduce you.
Will: Word?
Danny: Hey, how you doing?
Will: You're the Danny Mitchell? Wait, hold it. I heard Charles Barkley on the radio talking about him and Danny was gonna rumble in the parking lot after the Laker game.
Danny: He won't show up, that wuss.

Philip: I showed up, didn't I?
Vivian: Yeah, Philip, for all the wrong reasons. What is your problem, honey? Having a baby is spiritual, and wonderful, and miraculous.
Philip: Oh, it doesn't sound miraculous. It sounds yucky.
Vivian: Well, you should have thought about that seven months ago before that second bottle of wine, Philip.

Will: I'll stay here and help you out.
Danny: Great. Will, I guess I owe you one. You know what? I am covering the Laker game on Saturday night.
Will: You want to watch from the press box? From the press box? [gasps] Okay, I can't breathe.
Danny: Okay, come on. Lie back here. Okay, take it slow. Take it slow. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Okay, focus. Focus with me.

Danny: Nothing for you, Will?
Will: No, thanks. I'm still tripping over that game. It was hype. Like, Worthy passes to Vlade. Vlade back to Byron Scott. Byron Scott back to Vlade. Vlade gets the ball back to Worthy. Worthy gets it, stuffs, pop. The Lakers win the game! The Lakers win the game!
Danny: You know what the high point of the game was for me, huh?
Will: What? When you punched Jack Nicholson in the nose for touching your stomach?