Frankie: He's always at the Donahues'. I never see him anymore. I miss him.
Mike: That's why you're the mom. I don't.
Frankie: Yeah, but, Mike, think about it. He's 16. He's only gonna be living here for a few more years.
Mike: Don't worry, honey. When the outside world gets a load of him, I think they'll send him right back.
Frankie: Axl's right. This house is lame. You know, if we had a cooler house, maybe he and his friends would hang out here more. And that's not a bad thing because we could keep our eye on him. I mean, didn't you get in trouble with friends when you were his age?
Mike: Yeah. We got these fake IDs... and took these girls in my friend's dad's car...
Brick: Hey, Dad, could you talk slower?