Dorothy: Ma, are you sure about this?
Sophia: I'm not even sure I have these pants on right.
Dorothy: Listen, I want you to go slow and pace yourself.
Sophia: That's what I used to tell your father. The only thing he did faster than eat was make love. And in both cases, before I was finished, he'd pat his stomach and say, "I've had enough."

Rose: Being abandoned is the worst. I know. I was almost abandoned.
Dorothy: Almost?
Rose: I was nine. It was the last night of the Deep-Root Vegetable Carnival, and I was having the greatest time. Eating candied turnips and guessing how many sweet potatoes were in the glass jar. Bobbing for yams. I had a knack of always coming up with the firmest, most appealing yams.
Blanche: I was once told I had the firmest, most appealing gams.
Dorothy: Blanche, try and stay with us.
Rose: Anyway, the last time I surfaced, clutching a humdinger of a yam between my teeth, my parents were gone. Frantically, I searched the carnival grounds. I was convinced I'd spend the rest of my days with the bearded lady as my foster mother, and the man who hoses down the elephants as my dad. Anyway, I was lost. And scared. But then I did what generations before me had done. I gazed up into that dark night sky and found the bright star that could guide me home.
Dorothy: The North Star.
Rose: Actually, it was the Texaco star. From a service station across the street. Our farm was just down the road from it.
Dorothy: Rose, honey, have you been washing the fruit off before you eat it?

Dorothy: Fine. But if she's gonna stay another couple of days, we'd better get more diapers and food.
Rose: I'm thawing some pork chops.
Blanche: Honey, she only has two teeth. How is she supposed to eat a pork chop?
Rose: My Uncle Lester only had one tooth, and he could eat corn on the cob. Of course, he didn't get a lot of it into his mouth. So they'd cream what fell on his pants, and he'd eat it later.

Rose: Oh, this is gonna be great. I love charities. In fact, I helped establish the Henry Fjord Foundation.
Dorothy: The Fjord Foundation?
Blanche: Yes, Dorothy. You know, that's the man who built the Fjord Fjalcon.
Rose: Henry Fjord was a saint. He dedicated his whole life to eliminating pond scum from Lake St. Olaf. His son, however, was a big disappointment. Henry Fjord Junior. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps. He thought scum was beneath him.
Sophia: You know, I just realized the best reason of all to join this walkathon.
Dorothy: What's that, Ma?
Sophia: I'd get away from this ditz for a whole day.

Rose: Sophia, how did you do?
Sophia: Great. Easily a personal best.
Blanche: Oh, tell us what happened.
Sophia: It was electric. The starter fired his pistol into the air and, like a shot, I left half my competition in the dust.
Rose: You were that fast?
Sophia: No, it was the over-80s category. Most of them dropped from fright.
Rose: You're kidding.
Sophia: Please. There's a natural build to these kind of stories.
Rose: Sorry.
Sophia: So, finally, the race was underway. I start off slow. I'm cagey, like a panther. But when the time is right, I pounce. The crowd is on its feet. "Sophia. Sophia." My heart is pounding in my ears. But then again, it always pounds in my ears. I could see the finish line. It was only 200-300 yards away. And then it happened. What every runner dreads. I hit the wall.
Dorothy: Ma, you ran out of steam.
Sophia: No, I actually hit a wall. They put up a new Wendy's on Collins Avenue. From what they told me, I picked myself up, staggered over the finish line and collapsed. People are talking the covers of national magazines.

Rose: I used to love to change diapers.
Dorothy: Face it, Rose. You march to a different drummer.
Blanche: I didn't exactly hate changing diapers, but I was never any good at it. Especially with the boys. They always had dry bottoms but wet T-shirts, cos I forgot to point their little ooh-hoos south.
Dorothy: You know, I didn't even think about that until Michael was at least six months old.
Rose: What's an ooh-hoo?
Dorothy: It's a chocolate soft drink.
Rose: I never had one.

Dorothy: Good morning, Ma. Hey, what are you eating?
Sophia: Linguini with clam sauce.
Dorothy: Who eats linguini with clam sauce for breakfast?
Sophia: Mother Teresa. It's a recipe from her new workout book.

Rose: What are you eating, Sophia?
Sophia: Linguini with clam sauce.
Rose: For breakfast?
Blanche: Morning. What's that you're eating, Sophia?
Sophia: It's incredible. Three hundred and sixty four days a year I could be gagging on a peach, but nobody would notice.

Dorothy: Come on, now, ma, what's really going on? You don't usually eat pasta for breakfast.
Sophia: I'm carbohydrate loading. I signed up for the charity walkathon.
Dorothy: Ma, are you nuts? I mean, this is for people who walk a lot.
Sophia: So what do I do, hover? I've been walking since 1904. Besides, they have a category for people over 80.

Dorothy: Rose, I work all week. The last thing I want to do is walk ten miles on a Saturday.
Rose: We won't be walking, we'll sit.
Blanche: Fine by me. I like to sit.
Sophia: We know. It's your second-favorite position.