Meemaw: What's all this about choking?
Georgie: Sheldon almost died this morning.
Meemaw: What?!
Georgie: Oh, yeah. Dad was shaking him upside down like a ketchup bottle.
Missy: It was great.

Georgie: What are you doing?
George: Separating the whites from the colors.
Georgie: Whoa, that's racist.

Georgie: Maybe you should go across the street and apologize.
George: I can't do that.
Georgie: Why not?
George: 'Cause if I do, it sets a bad precedent.
Georgie: What's Nixon got to do with it?
George: What?
Georgie: You said "bad president," like Nixon. You know, this guy.

Georgie: Mornin'.
Mary: Mornin'.
Georgie: I slept in the nude last night. Felt every little breeze.
[Sheldon slides his food away]
Mary: Thank you for sharing that.
Georgie: You're welcome.

George: And Sheldon's fine. You know what he's like. If someone took him, I'm sure they'll bring him right back.

George: If we take him to a shrink, it feels like we're admitting something's wrong with him.
Mary: He hasn't had solid food in five weeks.
Meemaw: Well, if there is something wrong with him, it ain't constipation.

Missy: Meemaw, are you gonna have any more babies?
Meemaw: Good Lord, no!
Georgie: She's too old to have any more babies.
Meemaw: Don't have to have 'em. You live long enough, your hair and your teeth start falling out, you start wetting the bed, you get to be one.
Georgie: [laughs] That's funny. We're gonna have to put a diaper on you.
Meemaw: You won't be laughing when you're doing it. I might be.