Mary: Just so you know, Sheldon and Missy won the three-legged race because she told him a bee was chasing them, and you missed it.

Sheldon: Regardless, I'm not interested in making any more friends.
Mary: Oh, I don't think that's how you really feel.
Sheldon: It is. From now on, it's a hermit's life for me.
Mary: I bet, when you grow up, you will be surrounded by lots of smart, wonderful friends.
Sheldon: I can't see that happening.

Sheldon: Mom, when should I be expecting my testicles?
Woman: [turns around] What is wrong with him?
Mary: Nothing is wrong with him. Now turn around before I knock your lights out.
Sheldon: Hello.

Mary: Sheldon Lee Cooper, if you don't finish that pork chop, I swear I will chew it up and spit it in your mouth like a mama bird.
Missy: Do it, Mom. Do it.

George Jr.: And I wasn't eavesdropping.
George Sr.: Don't worry about it.
George Jr.: I just don't see why I got grounded.
George Sr.: What are you complaining about? You didn't want to go to church picnic anyway.
George Jr.: I like complaining. I'm good at it.

Adult Sheldon: The average American consumes 55 pounds of beef per year. And then there's Texas, where we can knock that off in a couple of months. Maybe faster, if we're talking about smoked brisket curiously, the one cut of beef that Texans and Jews agree upon.

George Sr.: I'll be right back.
George Jr.: Mind if I have a sip of your beer?
George Sr.: You mind if I dip your head in the compost heap?
George Jr.: You could have just said no.