Mary: You know what? You want me to treat you like an adult, you got it. From this moment on, I am done mommy-ing you.
Sheldon: Wonderful. Does that mean I can have my comic books back?
Mary: Comic books are for children. You're an adult.

George Jr.: Mom, you need to sign this consent form.
Mary: What's it for?
George Jr.: Field trip.
Mary: Where?
George Jr.: Museum.
Mary: Which one?
George Jr.: Does it matter? It's not like I'm gonna learn anything, anyway.
Sheldon: It's the planetarium at the science museum. And I need you to sign mine, too.
Mary: Oh. It's interesting that an adult would need his mother to sign a consent form.
Missy: And here we go.
Sheldon: I don't need you to sign it, the school does.
Mary: So you're saying even the school doesn't think that you're mature enough to make all your own decisions.

Mary: I just realized something. College applications cost money just to send in.
Sheldon: They do?
Mary: $50, $60 a pop. I don't believe you have that kind of money, do you?

Mary: And bless our appetites, both physical and spiritual, to honor You in all we do. In Jesus' name.
George Jr.: What happened to "Bless the hands that prepared it"?
Mary: I thought I'd mix it up.
George Jr.: I miss the old one.
Missy: Me, too.
George Sr.: Yeah, what I like about the other one-
Mary: And bless the hands that prepared it. Amen.

George Sr.: So, did you understand any of it?
Mary: Not a word. But he had on a tweed jacket with the elbow patches, so he must know what he's talking about.

Mary: They're not gonna be back for a while. Go to bed.
Sheldon: I won't be able to sleep.
Mary: I'm not telling you to go to sleep, I'm telling you to go to bed.
Sheldon: You don't think they'll have relations tonight, do you?
Mary: Now I'm telling you to go to sleep.

Mary: So, are you gonna see him again?
Meemaw: I don't know. He showed up at my house on a bike.
George Sr.: Like a Harley?
Meemaw: Like a Schwinn.
Mary: You mean a bike bike?
Meemaw: With a jingle bell on the handlebar and everything.
Mary: Well, that's kind of charming.
Meemaw: He doesn't know how to drive a car. Doesn't want to know.
Mary: Okay, a little less charming.

Mary: She can cut her own crusts off.

Meemaw: Maybe having this mutt next door won't be so bad. Shelly could end up getting used to it.
George Sr.: That's true. Remember when he got all freaked out by the fruit at the bottom of yogurt? Now he eats it no problem.
Mary: He still makes me stir it.

Sheldon: Meemaw got punched in the face because of me.
Mary: No, that wasn't because of you, and for the record, your meemaw gets punched in the face all the time.

George Sr.: Mmm. Good ratio of hot dog chunks to spaghetti.
Mary: I've been experimenting. Glad you noticed.

Mary: Did you forget you have a daughter who would really benefit from having a good man to look up to? Oh, dear Lord. You did forget.

George Sr.: Do I really need to get dressed up to go to Red Lobster?
Mary: You're getting dressed up for your daughter. And that's a new shirt, so be sure to ask for a bib.

George Jr.: If it's just the two of us, why can't I eat watching TV?
Mary: 'Cause you're having dinner with your mother and it's a chance for us to talk.
George Jr.: Sheldon's having dinner and looking out the window.
Mary: Want me to have him join us?
George Jr.: No!
Mary: Then quit complaining.

George Jr.: So what do you want to talk about?
Mary: Um, I don't know. How's school?
George Jr.: It's school, it's a turd fest.
Mary: Charming. Are you dating anyone?
George Jr.: Nah, nobody up to my standards.
Mary: Sure.
George Jr.: Can I ask you a question?
Mary: Course, you can ask me anything.
George Jr.: Were you pregnant with me when you married Dad?
Mary: Um, why would you ask that?
George Jr.: Sheldon said so.
Mary: How would Sheldon know?
George Jr.: He did the math.
Mary: What math?
George Jr.: He said the time between my birthday and your wedding day was six months.
Mary: Um, yeah. That's because you were born premature.
George Jr.: I've seen my birth certificate, it said I weighed nine pounds.
Mary: Yes, that's true. You were a big fat preemie. Let's talk about something else.
George Jr.: Why?
Mary: 'Cause I'd very much like to.

Mary: He can't deliver newspapers.
George Sr.: Why not?
Mary: It's too dangerous.
George Sr.: I think you're being a little overprotective.
Mary: You expect him to go riding around at 5:00 a.m. with cars and dogs and who knows what else?

George Sr.: I know you're worried, but he needs to experience the world a little bit. Why not let him do it when most of it's asleep?
Mary: I suppose you're right.
George Sr.: You coming back to bed?
Mary: Are you crazy? That's my little boy out there in the dark.
George Sr.: Mm, but your big boy's right here under the covers.
Mary: Urgh.
George Sr.: There is a nicer way to say that.

Mary: He loves being organised.
George Sr.: Boy, does he. We can't go to the grocery store without him making sure that all the labels are facing the right way.
Mary: Oh, the stock boys there are always so happy to see him.
Linda: [LAUGHING] That's adorable.
George Sr.: Well, it wasn't adorable when we redid our shower and he wouldn't use it 'cause two of the tiles were crooked.
Mary: He took baths in the sink until we got it fixed.

Adult Sheldon: Despite his concerns over her sanity, my dad found a rock worthy of her faith garden.
Mary: Ooh, right over there.
Adult Sheldon: [GRUNTS] Here?
Mary: Mm-hmm. [George drops the rock down] Gently!
George Sr.: [PANTING]: Honey, it's a rock.
Mary: I know, but still.

Meemaw: What is happening with you?
Mary: Do you really want to know? So, the other day I was making a casserole to bring over to the Hansons, and I wanted to include a sympathy card. So I started to write, "Your daughter's in a better place." [VOICE BREAKING] And I had to stop. Because how could that possibly be true? How could a better place be anywhere than at home safe with her family? She was just a little kid. That could've been Georgie behind the wheel. How could that possibly be God's plan?