Blanche: Do you know what I think the worst part of getting older is?
Dorothy: Your face? Rose's hands?
Blanche: No. I think the worst part about getting older is that overwhelming sense of, "Where did the time go?" I mean, was it really that long ago I was just a little girl?
Dorothy: Oh, why guess? Lift up your chin, and we'll count the rings.
Blanche: Dorothy, I was about to share with you a significant memory from my youth. It was the evening my mother gave birth to Clayton. In the spirit of the happy occasion, Big Daddy and a few of his cronies tied one on and went carousing through the streets of Atlanta, looking for some trouble. Just then, as luck would have it, who rounded the corner but two smart-mouthed New York lawyers. So, one thing led to another, and, well, Big Daddy and his friends ended up sort of skimming them across Higgins Pond. It was all in good fun. Least that was their defense. Anyway, that was the night prohibition started.
Dorothy: Blanche, prohibition started in the '20s.
Blanche: Oh, I'm sorry. I meant probation. Big Daddy went on probation.
Dorothy: And, uh, the point of this sordid song of the South?
Blanche: Just that sometimes a daughter has to look after her own parent, as unnatural as that may feel.