Meemaw: I think it's nice that y'all get along as well as you do.
Dale: Mm-hmm. Where are we going with this?
Meemaw: Oh, just nothing. Makin' conversation.
Dale: Okay.
Meemaw: You sleeping with her?
Dale: Lord, no. She's my ex-wife. Come on. Oh, my gosh, what kind of sicko sleeps with their ex-wife? Where is this coming from? Are you jealous?
Meemaw: No. I'd just like to know, you know, what kind of relationship we're in. I mean, are we seeing other people or what?
Dale: Connie Tucker, are you asking me to go steady?
Meemaw: You know what I'm asking, jackass.
Dale: [chuckles] All right, all right, all right. You listen to me. Now, I'm 72 years old. Do you think I have enough stamina to go playing around with other women?
Meemaw: You saying the only reason you're seeing me is you're too old and tired to see anybody else?
Dale: [sighs] Give me the Tums.

Meemaw: Where we eating tonight?
Dale: Well, that depends. Why don't you look in the glovebox and check on the Tums situation.
Meemaw: There's five.
Dale: Oh, my, this is tricky. Well, Mexican's at least three apiece.
Meemaw: We might get by with two each if it's Italian.
Dale: You get red wine and then tomato sauce. Hey, if they put lemon in the water, we're dead.
Meemaw: Hmm. That leaves barbecue.
Dale: Sold.
Meemaw: Who gets Tum number three?
Dale: Me. They're my Tums.

Meemaw: I'll have the rib eye, medium rare.
Waiter: And for you?
Dale: Uh, just the house salad, please.
Waiter: Very good.
Meemaw: House salad? You watching your figure?
Dale: I have a physical tomorrow.
Meemaw: Oh, so your plan is to start eating healthy now?
Dale: Can't hurt.
Meemaw: It ain't gonna undo years of red meat and beer.
Dale: I'm not trying to undo it, I'm just trying to hide it under some lettuce.

Meemaw: I got to go open up the gambling room. Can you watch her for about an hour?
Dale: I just had coffee and a bowl of Raisin Bran. Next hour is spoken for.
Meemaw: You could've just said no.
Dale: I'm trying to keep the romance alive.

Ms. Hutchins: Hi, George.
George: Oh, hey, Ms. Hutchins. I don't think I've ever seen you at a game before.
Ms. Hutchins: Well, uh, it's Friday, and I promised my therapist I'd try one new thing a week.
George: And you picked football. Good for you.
Ms. Hutchins: I don't suppose Sheldon's here?
George: Nah, he doesn't much care for outdoor sports. Or sports. Or the outdoors.

George: Oh, my God. Are you okay?
Ms. Hutchins: I don't think so.
George: [to Coach Wilkins] Call an ambulance. [to Ms. Hutchins] Don't worry, we're gonna get you taken care of.
Ms. Hutchins: If I die, tell my therapist I hate him.

Sheldon: Did he apologize?
Mary: No. He is very upset with you.
Sheldon: Well, I'm upset with him.
Mary: That doesn't excuse you from trying to get him in trouble by calling Dr. Linkletter.
Sheldon: Who else was I supposed to tattle to? I doubt his mother's still alive.