Dorothy: You know, Ma, this reminds me of the time the heat went out in our old apartment back in Brooklyn. I was about, oh, seven years old, 'cause I was still sleeping with my rag doll Mrs Doolittle. I remember I woke up in the night with my teeth chattering. I got out of bed and tiptoed to your bedroom door. I opened it a crack and I whispered, "Mommy, Mrs. Doolittle is cold." "Mommy, Mrs Doolittle-"
Sophia: Dorothy?
Dorothy: Yes, Ma.
Sophia: Cut the crap, I'm not in the mood.