Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- That's it? - I promise to write more often.
Finally, one year, I couldn't make it without stopping.
Oh, excuse me, I didn't see you.
A damn good sport.
It's not that we don't get on. It's just that we think differently.
I'll get changed. Bridget's taking me to the House of Fabrics for the felt sale.
Oh, my God. Is that what I have to look forward to, 15 years from now?
You look great. I'm glad to see you. I've missed you.
They're both real smart and they've got big ears, so don't get technical, OK?
You ungrateful brat, how could you do this to me?
I don't think I can go without physical activity for a week.
Thank God this is over. I couldn't see a thing through this crap.
The only white boy from Brooklyn who could scat.
Couldn't we just wear matching outfits?
I wanna be able to share my deepest, darkest secrets with you.
- That's right. - Oh, girls.
- I'll do that. - No, you won't.
Maybe you're all friends again, but not me.
How about a nice glass of lemonade?
You've embarrassed me, your mother, our friends.
Dorothy, you must help me. Do something.
I failed to listen to my children.
- I owe you an apology. - I owe you one.
I figured that would be the third thing to go.
I may not remember what it feels like, but I remember what it looks like.
- This is my daughter, Bridget. - Hello.
I can't stand it much longer.
But I thought the job was till the end of summer.
- I call her a tramp. - What?
He's a musician in New York. He hasn't time to write.
- Grandma, listen... - You, listen.
Don't thank me, thank my grandson.
Dorothy, we've always had our differences.
After last night, he doesn't exist.
Who knows my body better than I do?