Meemaw: What's up?
Missy: Can I talk to you about serious woman stuff?
Meemaw: Of course. Is this a... iced tea conversation or a hot tea conversation?
Missy: Definitely hot.
Meemaw: Uh-oh.

Meemaw: So what's goin' on?
Missy: I think I have a boyfriend.
Meemaw: Wow.
Missy: But you cannot tell Mom.
Meemaw: Oh, of course... I love not telling your mother stuff.

Meemaw: Alls I'm saying is people aren't always in the mood.
Sheldon: Well, they should be. I'm happy to learn any fact at any time.
Meemaw: Is that so?
Sheldon: Yes.
Meemaw: Grab my knitting bag.
Sheldon: I don't recommend driving while knitting. Your reflexes aren't what they used to be.
Meemaw: Just look in the bag! Did you know that there are three different kinds of yarn?
Sheldon: I didn't.
Meemaw: You got your animal, like wool. Your plant, like cotton. And your synthetic, like acrylic.
Sheldon: Interesting.
Meemaw: You think so? I'm glad to hear that. Because each one of them has plusses and minuses, and you're about to hear them all in mind-numbing detail.

Adult Sheldon: While my meemaw wasn't able to acquire a jungle cat, the idea of tormenting a child did tickle her Texan fancy.
Meemaw: [singsong] Sheldon. [chicken clucking] I have someone else who wants to talk to you.
Sheldon: What are you doing with that filthy thing?
Meemaw: Why do you care? If nothing is real, then neither is the chicken. [Sheldon jumps out of bed] Oh. Good. We're standing now. That's progress.
Sheldon: Get her out of here.
Meemaw: Well, I would, but... [chuckles] apparently, I can't know what "here" is. So maybe I could just... set her on your bed.
Sheldon: Okay! Okay. I'll get dressed.
Meemaw: Make it snappy.
Sheldon: This still doesn't solve my existential crisis.
Meemaw: Say what? You want to hold her?
Sheldon: [gasps] No.
Meemaw: Less talk. More pants.

Dale: Now, what do you think young people talk about on their dates?
Meemaw: I don't know. But my knee's telling me it's gonna rain this weekend.

Dr. Linkletter: Perhaps we could create some sort of a cocoon to suspend it.
Sheldon: Out of wire?
Dr. Linkletter: Or nylon. But I wouldn't know how to weave it around a sphere.
Meemaw: I'm not a genius, but it sounds to me like what y'all are talking about is, uh, crochet.
Dr. Linkletter: I suppose we are.
Meemaw: Because with crochet, you can make all kinds of shapes.
Dr. Linkletter: Intriguing.
Meemaw: Hell, I even crocheted a cover for Jolene.
Dr. Linkletter: I'm sorry?
Meemaw: That's my bowling ball.
Sheldon: She likes to name inanimate objects... it's odd.
Dr. Linkletter: Or whimsically charming.

Dale: Well, you're not a fan of doctors, huh?
Meemaw: They never have good news. They just want to find something wrong.
Dale: It's kind of their job.
Meemaw: If something's wrong with me, I don't want to know about it.
Dale: That's dumb.
Meemaw: No, it's not. If I'm gonna drop dead, I'd rather do it quick and leave lookin' good.

Meemaw: So how come it's taken us so long to hang out?
Brenda Sparks: Well... my husband never left me before.
Meemaw: We can joke about it? Good. 'Cause that's gonna make this night way easier.

Meemaw: Well, let's get into it. What happened? If it's another woman, she's a tramp, and you're way prettier.
Brenda Sparks: No. Although sometimes I wish there was. Then I'd have someone to be mad at other than myself.
Meemaw: And here I thought this one was gonna be the sad sack.
Mary: Mom, that is enough.
Meemaw: Oh, there's my little killjoy. [both laughing]

Meemaw: How much did Dale pay you?
George Jr.: Uh, minimum wage plus five percent commission.
Meemaw: I'll give you half of that.
George Jr.: So, two and a half percent commission?
Meemaw: No, half of the minimum wage part.
George Jr.: What about a percentage of these?
Meemaw: [laughs] Yeah, right.
George Jr.: I'm serious. If it wasn't for me, none of this would be happening.
Meemaw: I'm your grandmother. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be happening.

Meemaw: I'll tell you what, we're in the gambling business, why don't we gamble for it?
George Jr.: Okay.
Meemaw: Great. The number I'm thinking of in my head... is it odd or even?
George Jr.: How dumb do you think I am?
Meemaw: In my defense, you used to be dumber.

Meemaw: What a haul, huh?!
George Jr.: Amazing. Now what happens?
Meemaw: I take it home, pour it on the bed, and just roll around in it.
George Jr.: What about me?
Meemaw: You just go home.
George Jr.: No. We're partners.
Meemaw: First of all, we're not partners, and second... Actually, "not partners" covers it all pretty well.

June: I got to admit, I'm a little jealous.
Meemaw: Of what?
June: You.
Meemaw: Why?
June: You have the Dale I never got. I spent a lot of time polishing that turd, and you get all the benefits.
Meemaw: Hey, I put my time in on that, too.
June: Not as much as me.
Meemaw: When I met him, he was a mess.
June: [laughs] You should've seen where I started.
Meemaw: Well, I think we can both agree, he is one lucky turd.
June: Amen, sister.

Mary: You are unbelievable. It is bad enough for you to do all this stuff, but then to drag Georgie down into your den of sin.
Meemaw: Oh, please, it's not a den of sin. Although that is a great name. Den of Sin. That would get some butts in seats. [Mary exclaims]

Missy: You're good at Band-Aids.
Meemaw: I've had practice on Sheldon. He's a fragile boy.

Meemaw: What's up?
Missy: Why won't Mom and Dad tell us what's going on?
Meemaw: Well, there might be several reasons for that, but right off the top of my head, I'd say none of your damn business.
Sheldon: Mom's having a baby, and that's none of our business?
Meemaw: [chuckles] Is that what you think's going on?
Missy: Isn't it?
Meemaw: No.
Sheldon: Then what's going on?
Meemaw: None of your damn business.

Meemaw: Ooh, I love this song. [Meemaw sings along to "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash] ♫ Bound by wild desires ♫ ♫ fell into a ring of fire ♫
George Jr.: My life's falling apart and you're singing?
Meemaw: ♫ I fell into a burning ring of fire ♫ ♫ I went down, down, down ♫ ♫ And the flames went higher ♫ ♫ And it burns, burns, burns ♫ ♫ That ring of fire ♫ [talks] Where?
George Jr.: The ring of fire
Meemaw: [vocalizes] [mimes playing a trumpet]

Meemaw: Listen to me, buster.
Sheldon: Okay.
Meemaw: You are a lot of things, Sheldon. You are cute, smart, hygienic. But most of all you are a Texan.
Sheldon: So?
Meemaw: So Texans aren't afraid of nothin'! Rattlesnakes, Indians, the Mexican Army. Do you imagine that Sam Houston was scared of a little old cold?
Sheldon: No.
Meemaw: Jim Bowie?
Sheldon: No.
Meemaw: Sissy Spacek?
Sheldon: I guess not?
Meemaw: You're damn right, because they're Texans through and through. Now I want you to quit hiding in this plastic bubble, and I want you to come out here and eat your cookies out in the world like a man! Like a Texan man!

Meemaw: Sheldon's got a girlfriend. What are the odds?
Mary: She's not a girlfriend, it's more of a mental rapport.
Meemaw: That's where it starts.
George Sr.: I did win you over with my superior intellect.
Mary: It was your motorcycle and you know it.
Meemaw: Good thing it wasn't your masculine physique, because that is long gone.
George Sr.: Why do you think I kept the motorcycle?

Meemaw: What kind of Texan drinks pink wine?