Frankie: Ta-da!
Brick: Nah, I think I'll keep the new one. Thanks, though.
Frankie: You just said that you missed it. You said it was throwing you off.
Brick: I can't tell if it's you or the backpack, but something smells pretty rank. Besides, the other kids in my class seem to like this... Shaquille O'Neal character. Maybe it'll help me fit in more. [whispers] Shaquille O'Neal character.

Mike: And Sue's middle name would be?
Frankie: You know her middle name. "Sue." Remember?
Mike: Oh.
Frankie: They wrote it down twice on her birth certificate by accident. We keep saying we're gonna go down and change it, and we never do.

Brick: Well, the new backpack and I are not getting along. At all.
Frankie: What happened?
[flashback to Brick walking around the classroom with his backpack on his head]
Frankie: Why was your backpack even on your head?
Brick: I was seeing if it had the same echo as my old one. It doesn't.

Mrs. Rinsky: There is such a thing as over-parenting, Mommy.
Frankie: That's not us. No. If anything, we under-parent. [laughs] We phone it in. Right, Daddy?
Mike: I don't know what we're doing here. Are we trying to convince her that Brick is weird, or not weird, or what?
Mrs. Rinsky: I know that it's easy for some mothers to latch on to their sons too tightly. Maybe you're trying to get from him what's missing in your relationship with your husband.
Mike: Hey.
Mrs. Rinsky: Let me tell you something. You add an S to "mother," you know what you get? "Smother." And no child benefits by being raised by a smother.
Frankie: I am not. I'm not a smother. I'm a lazy parent with a weird kid. Go on, tell her, Mike. Tell her how pathetic we are.
Mike: All right. Okay. I'm pulling the rip cord on this thing. Grab your purse. Let's go.

Frankie: What are you, your brother now? Why aren't you ready for school?
Brick: I'm taking a personal day. [whispers] Personal day.
Frankie: Come on. You love school. Get up.
Brick: Please don't make me go. I don't like my new teacher.
Frankie: Why not?
Brick: Everything was going great, but then, all of a sudden, she drags my desk to the front of the class. I like sitting in the back. I read my book, and I sip my juice box. I'm back by the sharpener. It's all good.
Frankie: Maybe Mrs. Rinsky's taken a special interest in you. Doesn't that make you feel well cared for and understood... and, you know, loved?
Brick: No. I feel like she's watching me all the time. And she won't let me whisper to myself. [whispers] Whisper to myself. I hate school.

Frankie: I swear, this is so not me. I mean, for you to see me at school twice in one week? I'm usually here twice the whole year. If that. [laughs]
Mrs. Rinsky: I got the gals waiting for me at Beefsteak Charlie's, so why don't we just cut to the chase?
Frankie: If you could please just forget everything I said at our last meeting...
Mrs. Rinsky: Done.
Frankie: ...and go back to treating him the way you would've treated him had I not come in. And move his desk back, I know that would make Brick so happy.
Mrs. Rinsky: So now the kid's calling the shots?
Frankie: No. I'm completely calling the shots. And you, well, you're the main shot-caller.
Mrs. Rinsky: Let me tell you something. You take the M off of "mom"... and you replace it with G-L, you know what you got? I'll tell you what you got. "Glom." Want me to conjugate it for you? To glom. She gloms. She's a glommy mommy.
Frankie: I am not a glommy mommy. It's just that Brick has never not wanted to go to school before, and I will not let you step one foot out of this room until you promise to pay no attention to anything I've said.
Mrs. Rinsky: Fine. But I don't wanna see you anymore. You don't volunteer for the field trip. You don't show up for the science fair. The annual Mother's Day pancake breakfast? Maybe you're not so hungry that day. Got it?
Frankie: [v.o.] Damn. I really liked that pancake breakfast.

Axl: Hey. Oh, do you know where the corncob holders are?
Mike: What are you doing? It's 2 in the morning.
Axl: Yeah, well, tell that to my stomach. All it knows is it's awake and it's hungry. You guys are like, "Wake up early. We'll be better people." And my alarm is all: [imitates alarm] And Mom is all: [makes nagging sound] Why do we have to listen to what she says? Why don't you just man up and say no?
Mike: [chuckles] You know nothing about being a man. Being a man is being smart. I know that, in May, I wanna go to the Indy 500. It is expensive. She won't want me to go. But she will remember that I supported her plan... and if she does not, I will remind her. I will be going to the Indy 500 with no pushback. And that, my son, is being a man. Hmm?

Sue: Mom, look. I printed out the front page of the school website. Look at it.
Frankie: "Overheated student ruins pep rally"? Oh, honey.
Sue: I know. I'm in the paper. Heh, I'm "overheated student." Everybody's gonna know me.

Frankie: We should be ashamed of ourselves, Mike. Ashamed. You know, every year, we say we're gonna get better, and we never are. There's no reason we can't be those other people.
Mike: What other people?
Frankie: The good people. The ones who aren't late for work. The ones who don't send their son to school with nail scissors and a lip pencil and call it "school supplies." No. You know what? It's a new day. We're making a change. Starting now, we are getting out in front of it.
Mike: You get in front of it. I'll get under it. Night, honey.
Frankie: I am sensing that you're not nearly as ashamed as you should be.
Mike: Hmm.
Frankie: I'm serious. If this was Supernanny and we saw this morning on hidden home camera, Jo would crucify us.
Mike: I swear to God, I will pull that cable out of the wall.

Frankie: And that's why we thought we could offer some insights into our son that might make the year go more smoothly.
Mrs. Rinsky: So you're here on the third day of school to try to get your child some special attention.
Frankie: Well, no, not special attention. But, you see, he is, you know, a little special.
Mrs. Rinsky: Let me tell you something, Mommy. Every parent thinks their child is special. They can't all be. That's impossible. I mean, some children are just... average.
Mike: We know. That's our other two kids.
Frankie: But, see, Brick is quirky special.
Mrs. Rinsky: Special needs?
Frankie: No, not that special.
Mrs. Rinsky: Well, then he's normal. So, what are you doing here, dear? On my lunch hour.
Frankie: [sighs] Well, uh, we were just trying to get out on top of it, and, um... You see, Brick whispers...