Brick: Hey, Dad, I've been working on the family Christmas letter, and I want to run it by you.
Mike: Uh, not a good time, Brick. I just drove all the way to Jasper and then to Bedford 'cause they put a tree on hold for me, which apparently means "sell it to whoever walks in and asks for one."
Brick: You know, if you can make that a bit more interesting, I think I can squeeze it in this baby. Here's what I got so far. "Dear friends, merry Christmas 2014. What a year. Mom doesn't wear pants anymore. She's got an unsightly bruise on her hip that's been there since July. She says if it doesn't go away in a week, she'll go to the doctor. Finances weigh heavy on our minds. The sink fell through the counter last month, and now we wash dishes in the shower. Axl's football career appears to be over, as he dropped the ball... both literally and figuratively." I'm very proud of that part.
Mike: Yeah.
Brick: "Mom and Dad stay up late worried about Sue doing something with Darrin called 'losing it.'"
Mike: Whoa! Brick, you can't say any of that stuff.
Brick: Why not? It's all true.
Mike: Yeah, well, that's exactly why. Christmas letters are just for the good things that happened in the last year.
Brick: Oh. Well, that's gonna be a lot harder. And shorter.
Mike: [chuckles] Yeah.

Frankie: Well, at least someone has a passion for the holiday. The kids are just so blah.
Mike: So, we start later in the day. Who cares?
Frankie: Don't you get it? Now that they're not little anymore, the magic is gone. Remember when they used to wake us up at 5:00 a.m. and jump on our bed?
Mike: I remember you cursing into your pillow.
Frankie: "Damn it" isn't a real curse.
Mike: You didn't say "damn it." You said...
Frankie: The point is, once you made me get up, I just loved how they couldn't wait to open their presents. And now all they want are gift cards.
Mike: I remember you cursing about having to go out and shop...
Frankie: The holidays are stressful! That doesn't mean you don't like 'em!

Frankie: Well, at least someone has a passion for the holiday. The kids are just so blah.
Mike: So, we start later in the day. Who cares?
Frankie: Don't you get it? Now that they're not little anymore, the magic is gone. Remember when they used to wake us up at 5:00 a.m. and jump on our bed?
Mike: I remember you cursing into your pillow.
Frankie: "Damn it" isn't a real curse.
Mike: You didn't say "damn it." You said...
Frankie: The point is, once you made me get up, I just loved how they couldn't wait to open their presents. And now all they want are gift cards.
Mike: I remember you cursing about having to go out and shop...
Frankie: The holidays are stressful! That doesn't mean you don't like 'em!

Frankie: Oh, my God. I could not even come up with a good reason why I go to church. I mean, who am I? Is my whole life a lie?
Mike: Just keep talking about it.
Frankie: Don't... No, don't mock me now, Mike. I'm very upset. I have to talk about this.
Mike: No, I want you to. Your breath is hot. It feels good.
Frankie: No, you don't understand. I'm the mother. I'm supposed to be the spiritual center of the home. Like, while you're out hunting and gathering, I'm supposed to make them righteous. They're not righteous. "Teach your children well." That's from Corinthians.
Mike: That's Crosby, Stills & Nash. Why does it feel like there's sand in the bed?
Frankie: It's gingerbread window crumbs. No, this whole time when I'm supposed to be caring about their spirituality, all I ever prayed for was for the girl I liked the most to be picked on The Bachelor, which is a terrible waste of prayer. By the time it airs, he's already picked her.

Brick: What's a Yankee Swap?
Frankie: Oh, it's this really fun party game where everybody brings a present, and then you get to pick one from a pile or steal someone else's.
Brick: Why is it called "Yankee Swap"?
Frankie: I don't know.
Brick: I'm assuming it has something to do with the slave trade.
Frankie: What? No! They would never name a party game after that!
Brick: Depends who "they" is.