President Hagemeyer: Gentlemen, please have a seat.
George: Sheldon's only been here a few weeks. I hope he's not in trouble already.
President Hagemeyer: What kind of trouble? Did something happen?
Sheldon: Ooh, maybe it's from when I decided...
George: Uh, uh, all good. Uh, you keep talking.

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

Georgie: A bill? Really?
George: Room and board, buddy.
Georgie: $50 a month for food?
George: The way you eat, I should've gone $50 a week.
Georgie: Laundry services?
George: Your poor mother has to touch your underwear.
Georgie: What's the $10 a month "peema" charge?
George: Oh, P-I-M-A, that's a "Pain in My Ass" tax. My way of getting compensated for you taking years off my life.

Georgie: You know what else is nice?
George: Hmm?
Georgie: I get to learn from all your parenting mistakes.
George: I'm starting to think letting you live this long was one of 'em.
Georgie: Like that. I'd never say something so awful to my kid. [George scoffs] Thanks, big guy.

Georgie: See? They ain't allowed to dance, either.
Missy: It's like I'm watching my life.
Georgie: That's how I feel when I'm watching Top Gun.

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.

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.