"How's Scarlett?"
"Well, it was a dramatic morning. Rosa called the paramedics."
"What, for constipation?"
"Apparently, Scarlett was crying so much that she threw up. And Rosa freaked out because none of the babies she nannies have turned blue before. But I'm sure Scarlett didn't turn blue. Rosa overreacts sometimes."
"What'd the paramedics do?"
"Well, they said Scarlett is constipated. Duh, like we didn't know that. They said to feed her more fiber, like we haven't been trying to. Wait until they get a baby that wants to eat nothing but yogurt. Yogurt, yogurt, yogurt! That's all she talks about. But the yogurt phase has come to an end. I've initiated a prune phase. And she's going to like it."

"Darren, don't you go in that puddle! Darren! So God help me, if you take one step into that puddle, we will not go to McDonald's."
"Mommy!"
"Don't you mommy me. Get away from the puddle. Right now."

"Hey, we got a call about a domestic dispute."
"No, it's not here. Something outside. Some guy yelling and yelling at his wife. Something about give me the last cigarette. He didn't hit her or nothing."
"Oh."
"They're right there, see? There's the two love birds."

"Was that the middle finger he gave you?"
"No, the index finger."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know. I guess it's bad. Maybe it's worse than the middle finger."

"Hey, what'd you do for Martin Luther King Day?"
"The usual. Baked a Martin Luther King cake."

"It really depends on what kind of poops you want to deal with. If you give them formula, the poops are messier. Breast milk makes the poops easier to deal with, but then how long do you really want to breast feed?"
"Isn't there some kind of diaper service where it doesn't matter how bad the poops are because they stir the diapers with a stick?"
"I don't know."
"Yeah, there's like a diaper stick or something."

"Hey, was that a man, woman, or dog riding that bike?"

"Hey, can you guys get a little closer. I can't get you in the picture. Get close, like you're lovers."
"We're not lovers, what the hell?"
"I know. Just get closer."
"We're not, you know."
"Not what?"
"Lovers."
"I know. Jesus, just get closer."

"It took me four hours to know my water broke. I mean, there was spotting down there, but not more than usual. It wasn't until the spotting wouldn't stop that I knew something different was going on. Hey, what's so funny to you guys? Come one, you're working near a bunch of pregnant ladies, you're bound to hear a couple of vagina stories."

"Did you go to that Lincoln party?"
"Huh?"
"Where you had to dress like a Lincoln. Like Abe Lincoln, Linkin Park, you know."

"No, I only listen to the Rowdy Rowdy Piper podcast."

"I'm already tired. Haven't even gotten into work yet."

"You look comfy."
"I've given up pants."

"He told his boss to get his own mail. Said he wasn't the mailman. Boy, the boss sent him packing."

"I worry that the audience won't understand the character's catharsis. I mean, here they've watched her struggle with such a deep, internal conflict, which is hard enough to stage, and then to question the play's resolution makes me think we need to revisit the denouement."
"Maybe you should use actors, not puppets."

"In Germany, our cookies don't have sugar or eggs."
"Jeez, do they have butter?"
"We prefer sawdust. Or pencil shavings."