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Mr. Plow
Lisa's First Word
Homer's Triple Bypass
(seeing Homer and Marge having sex)
Baby Bart: Ay, caramba!

Baby Lisa: Bart!
Toddler Bart: What did you say?
Baby Lisa: Bart?
Bart: Suffering succotash! You can talk! [runs downstairs] Mom! Dad! She can talk! Say it again, Lisa.
Baby Lisa: Bart! Bart, Bart, Bart, Bart, Bart.
Bart: I'm her first word!
Marge: Well, I'm not surprised. Lisa's crazy about you. She thinks you hung the moon.
Bart: Wow! [to Lisa] Lisa. Can you say 'Mommy'?
Baby Lisa: Mommy.
Bart: Can you say 'David Hasslehoff'?
Baby Lisa: Dabid Hasslehoff. [giggles]
Homer: Can you say 'Daddy'?
Baby Lisa: Homer.
Homer: No, sweetie. 'Daddy'.
Baby Lisa: [pause] Homer.
Homer: D'oh!

[While Bart and Lisa argue, Homer puts Maggie to bed.]
Homer: You know, Maggie. The sooner kids learn to talk, the sooner they talk back. [puts Maggie in her crib] I hope you never say a word.
[Homer leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Maggie takes her pacifier out of her mouth.]
Maggie: Daddy.

Marge: Maggie, can you say, "ba-ba"? Can you say, "mama"?
Bart: Can you say, "Get bent"?
Marge: Bart!
Bart: Mister Rogers says it all the time!
Marge: He does not!

Homer: Maggie, can you say daddy? Daddy?
Marge: Kitty. Kitty.
Lisa: Be-bop. Be-bop.
Bart: Shove it. Shove it.

Marge: According to Fretful Mother, if Maggie doesn't learn to talk by age one, we should consider a corrective tongue extender.

Bart: Homer!
Homer: (chuckles) Homer's what grownups call me. Call me Daddy.
Bart: Homer.
Homer: Daddy.
Bart: Homer.
Homer: [becoming increasingly irate] Daddy.
Bart: Da...da...da...
Homer: Yes?
Bart: D'omer! (laughs)
Homer: Why, you little...! [growling and chokes Bart]

(When Homer, Marge and Bart mo into their new home)
Bart: Hey, Homer, this house sucks!
Homer: Bart, I told you not to use that word! Call me Daddy.
Bart: Homer! Nyah!
Homer: Grr! (begins strangling him and grunting)

Marge: [telling Bart a bedtime story] Then the prince and the princess...[yawn] got married and lived happily ever after.
Bart: Then what happened?
Marge: Uh...they had 30 sons and thirty daughters.
Bart: What were their names?
Marge: Hmm...Dennis...Brad...Mavis...Brad...[falls asleep]

Homer: Got your nose! Heh heh heh.
Bart: Got your wallet! [flushes it down toilet]

Marge: There's going to be twice as much love in this house as there is now!
Homer: We're going to start doing it in the morning?

Marge: I'm afraid we're going to need a bigger house.
Homer: No, we won't. I've got it all figured out. The baby can have Bart's crib and Bart'll sleep with us until he's 21.
Marge: Won't that warp him?
Homer: My cousin Frank did it.
Marge: You don't have a cousin Frank.
Homer: He became Francine back in '76. Then he joined that cult. I think his name is Mother Shabubu now.

Patty: Hey Bart, want a dollar? Uh uh uh, you know what I wanna hear.
Bart [singing]: I'm a little teapot short and stout, this is my handle this is my spout. The incy wincy spider went up the water spout...
Patty: Oh yeah!
Selma: Love that spout medley.

Homer: Once we get the cats out of the way, it won't be too bad.
Real Estate Agent: Actually, according to the will, the cats own the house. You'd be their tenants!

Lisa: I wish we lived in the kitty house.
Bart: I could've trained them to be my unholy army of the night. Go, my pretties! Kill! Kill!

Real Estate Agent: Here we have beautiful hard wood floor, track lighting.
Marge: What's that stench?
[Marge opens up window to see a factory]
Sign: Rendering Plant
Real Estate Agent: Once you get used to the smell of melted hog fat, you'll wonder how you ever did without it
Homer: Mmmm...hog fat.
Marge: Let's keep looking. 
[Cut to factory]
Factory worker: Ooh, do you smell that?
[Homer goes to the rendering plant to see the hog fat]

Homer: Dad, I have a problem.
Grampa: Why did you come to me? I really don't know nothin'. I used to get by on my looks. Now they're gone... withered away like an old piece of fruit. (sobs)
Homer: Are you done?
Grampa: No, not yet! I was voted the handsomest boy in Albany, New York!
Homer: Dad, I don't need advice! I want $15,000 to buy a home!
Grampa: Oh, well. All I own is this house, that I built with my own two hands!
Homer: You didn't build this house! You won it on a crooked 50's game show!
Grampa: I ratted on everybody and got off scot-free! Ha-ha! [high-fours Homer]: All right, son, I'll sell this dump and write you a check.
Homer: Dad, first you gave me life, now you've given me a home for my family. I'd be honored if you came to live with us.
Grampa: Thank you!
Bart: [in the present] So how long before you shipped Grampa off to the old-folks home?
Homer: About three weeks.
[everyone laughs]

Lisa: When do we get to my first word?
Homer: Your what-what?
Lisa: My first word!
Homer: Nah, you don't want to hear that story. I know. I'll tell you about the time I got locked in the bank vault with Mr. Mooney. It was another one of my harebrained schemes.
Lisa: Dad!
Homer: Wait a minute. That was "The Lucy Show." Now, where were we?
Bart: Mom was preggers and Dad just threw all our money down the sink hole.

Ned: If you need anything just give a whistle.
Homer: I could use a Television tray.
Ned: Well, gee...
Homer: What?
Ned: Uh, I just this minute bought it at the hardware...
Homer: You said "anything".
Ned: Heh, sure, you can borrow it for...a little while.
Homer: [in the present] And that little while is now 8 years and counting. Heh, heh, heh.

Bart [during his "terrible two's" phase; he's banging pans and chanting while Marge is resting in her bedroom with a washcloth on her forehead]: I am so great! I am so great! Everyone loves me, I am so great!
Marge: Honey, honey, honey, honey, honey. Will you please be quiet?
Bart: Quiet! Biet! Fiet! Ziet! Diet! 
Marge: Bart, get out!

Homer: It's not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to fit in eight hours of TV a day.

Bart: Krusty funny!
Homer: Duh.

Bart: Can't sleep, Clown'll eat me.

Marge: Homer, I think the baby is coming.
Homer: Wow. A baby and a free burger. Could this be the best day of my life?
TV Announcer: Coming up next, an hour-long episode of "Mama's Family."
Homer: Yes!

Ned: We'll take very good care of your boy, Simpson. Enjoy the miracle of creation!
Homer: Shut up, Flanders.

Ned: Supper time, boys!
Todd: Oh boy: liver!
Rod: Iron helps us play.
Bart: I wanna go home. [sees the Evil Clown Bed] No I don't.

Marge [about Bart after Lisa's born]: According to this magazine, Bart might be jealous of her.
Homer: Well, Bart can kiss my hairy yellow butt.

Marge: I saved this newspaper from the day Lisa was born.
Lisa: {reading} "Mondale to Hart: Where's the beef?"
Bart: "Where's the beef?" What the hell that's supposed to mean?
Homer: [laughs] "Where's the beef?" No wonder he won Minnesota.

Selma: The older they get, the cuter they ain't. Hey, the baby just spit up.

Dr. Hibbert: [at Lisa's checkup] [laughs] She has the reflexes of a young Mary Lou Retton. Have a wowwipop. [gives Lisa one]
Bart: Can I have a lollipop?
Dr. Hibbert: Oh Bart, I'm afraid that was the last one. But I've got something even better for you: a rubella inoculation! [holds up a giant needle]

Bart: I wanna hold the baby. I wanna hold the baby.
Marge: I'm sorry, Bart, you're too little.
Homer: Here, Bart, you can hold my beer. [puts it on his head]
Marge: Homer!
Homer: (oblivious) What?

Ned: [returning Lisa to Homer] Hidey-ho, Simpson. Your son shoved this through our doggie door. And since we're returning your second born, you think you could see your way to returning my TV tray?
Homer: [slams the door and begins to put Bart in time-out] Boy, you get over to the corner and you... [sees Bart already in time-out] Yeah.

Krusty: YOU PEOPLE ARE PIGS! (sobs angrily) I am personally gonna spit in every fiftieth burger!
Homer: Ooh, I like those odds!

Evil Clown Bed: If you should die before you wake... (evil maniacal laugh)