Programma Televisivo: Everybody Loves Raymond - 6x12
Hi, Marie.
Oh, hi, dear.
Thanks for watching the kids.
I really needed to get to the dentist.
It's wonderful you take all this time for yourself.
Thank you.
What are you working on there?
It's a Barone family Christmas letter.
I want to keep people up-to-date on what we've all been doing.
Don't forget to mention my new filling.
Maybe next year.
These have to go out this afternoon.
I'll go round up the kids.
Okay.
Oh, lady, you are out of your ever-loving mind!
Marie!
Oh my God!
Honey, are you all right?
Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.
What the hell are you...
You should look where you're going.
Let me get you some ice.
Marie, forget the ice.
Who are you sending this to?
You know, family and friends.
Here, put this broccoli on your head.
You cannot send this out.
I don't understand. "
Debra's cooking is coming along.
Someday I might even consider her for a job at Chez Marie."
You're considering me for a job in your restaurant?
It's not a real restaurant.
It's make-believe!
What about this? "
Debra is outnumbered by the kids 3-to-1, so I've had to help out, so now it's even."
So you're saying that you are worth two of me.
No one's going to do the math.
I'm just saying it's nice.
It's not nice.
It's you having to help poor, pathetic Debra!
And isn't that nice?
It's not true.
You are not sending this out.
Oh?
I'm not?
Not like this, no way.
Well, I'm sorry, but this is my letter, and this is America.
Fine.
You know what?
Fine.
Goodbye, Marie.
But, Debra, what about your...
Bye.
I know, I know.
I forgot the kids.
You gonna put that in your letter?
Debra...
Ow!
Ooh!
Hey, eight maids a-milkin'!
You gonna do this every night until Christmas?
Can't we just cut to "partridge in a pear tree" and be done with it?
Wow.
When we go to Macy's, you can punch Santa and kick an elf.
Sorry.
I'm sorry.
It's just that your mother is sending out this stupid family Christmas letter, and I look terrible in it.
She makes it sound as if she has to raise my kids and clean my house while I sit around and drool into a cup.
Just let her have her delusions.
What else does she have...
chasing Dad around the house with a can of Lysol?
Yeah, but she's mailing those delusions to everybody.
People are gonna think it's true!
Lt'll be, "Thank God Marie lives close enough to help that idiot woman and her dirty family!"
Hello.
I saw you pull in, Raymond, And I thought you'd like some biscotti.
Oh, thanks.
Biscotti?
No, thank you.
Actually, I made them for you, Debra.
Oh, that's nice.
It's nice.
I'm sorry, Debra!
Oh, that's so nice!
Okay, okay!
I'm sorry that letter upset you so.
It's okay, you don't have to apologize.
Have a biscotti.
Thank you.
I would love one.
I'm so glad we could put this behind us.
Me too...
it's beautiful, what's happening here.
I've got to get those letters to the post office before they close.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute!
You're still sending that letter?
Of course, dear.
I have to.
You have to?
Marie, when I speak, what is it you hear?
Is it, like, backwards-talk or dolphin squeaks?
You don't understand.
This is the reason I have to send my letter.
It's from my cousin Theresa.
It came yesterday.
Here, read. "
Merry Christmas and season's greetings to old friends and new friends, dear friends and true friends."
Enough, enough.
I can't anymore.
I thought you like Theresa.
I love her, but read this here. "
Our choir sang at the White House.
My roses were featured in 'Good Housekeeping'."
Look at all of those exclamation points.
You'd think she pulled the Pope out of quicksand or something!
So you don't like it that Theresa's doing well?
Oh, it's not that.
You know me.
I don't bother about petty jealousy.
Yeah.
That is not your style.
That's right...
I just want people to read about me and think, "Marie is doing well, too."
I understand, but can't you write a letter that makes you look good without making me look so...
Doofusy?
Yeah, doofusy.
I guess I'm just trying to make myself sound as important as Theresa.
But what am I?
I've got my kids, I've got my grandkids, him over there.
It's okay.
I'll just let the world read about me in Theresa's letter.
What did she write about you?
Not much.
How much is there, really?
Marie.
Third page, second paragraph. "
We saw Marie and her family at Kate Kelly's wedding.
They seemed to be doing well in their cozy situation, living a stone's throw from each other...
not that they'd ever throw stones, ha ha."
Oh!
She's a bitch!
Listen, I would never say that, but it's nice to hear.
Well, wait.
What's so bad? "
Not that they'd ever throw stones, ha ha"?
She's saying we don't get along.
Where does somebody get off writing that?
You know what, Marie?
You and I are gonna write our own Christmas letter together.
Oh, no.
What do you mean?
We can write a better letter than Saint Theresa.
We'll make us both look good.
Maybe you can even come up with a little dirt on her.
She does have eczema.
Great!
What are we gonna write about me?
What about all your trips to the botanical gardens?
Get up!
Come on!
What about the gardens?
You know more than most of the guides. "
Marie is the best guide at the botanical gardens."
We'll put that right in there.
We would?
Let's start right now.
The sooner we write it, the sooner we can wipe that smug grin off her dry, itchy face.
Hey, uh, excuse me.
Let's not forget it's Christmas, you know, a time for not being so...
And to all a good night.
This all looks great.
There's just one thing...
Shouldn't we use the word "selfless" to describe your work as a piano teacher?
Oh, hi, Robbie.
Hello.
Hey, Robert.
What's going on? "
Robert's meteoric rise through the NYPD has really turned some heads, both here at home and at the precinct."
What is this?
I heard you were writing a family Christmas letter, so I did my bio.
I would like it inserted verbatim.
You wrote your own thing?
Indeed I did.
But we've already finished.
Oh, really?
Is it anything like your last Christmas letter?
I haven't written a Christmas letter in 10 years.
Look familiar?
You kept that 10 years?
Oh, yes.
I wasn't exactly pleased with the way I was portrayed, and I made a solemn pledge to never let that happen again.
Dude, you are so weird.
Am I, Raymond?
Am I?
There were six lines in your section.
I got three.
Half, okay?
And after it came out, everybody gave me a pitiful, pathetic look.
You always get that look.
It was more pronounced, man!
Well, we can't change anything now.
But don't worry...
there's a lovely part about you.
Oh, yeah?
Let me see that.
Uh-huh, uh-huh, okay, mm-hmm.
Raymond gets 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...
seven lines.
And I get 1, 2, 3...
three!
Less than half!
I'm losing ground!
All right, let's see what you wrote. "
Robert is an in-demand bachelor, happily playing the field."
That's right. "
Robert loves to dance, and has been known to boogie the night away."
Let me get this straight...
you've broadened the definition of the term "boogie" to include staying home by yourself eating Wheat Thins?
I am a dancer!
What's the...
what are you getting so worked up for?
It's a Christmas letter.
It's no big deal.
Oh, yeah?
Not for you.
You've got the whole Raymond fan club doing your writing.
Let's take a gander at this year's model, shall we? "
What can you say about Raymond?
Whether he's playing with the children or playing golf, the guy loves life."
Oh, happy days! "
He is still writing his column for New York Newsday."
Whoa, whoa.
Wait a minute.
What do you mean, "still writing my column"?
Like I should be doing something better by now?
No, that's not what we meant.
It's not "still writing," it's "still writing!"
But that's not how it's gonna read!
People are gonna get the wrong impression here.
Ooh!
This is going out to everybody we know?
Of course.
Not like this, it isn't.
Come on, you're overreacting.
I am not overreacting!
Hee hee!
I could be managing editor if I wanted.
I could work for the New York Times if I wanted.
We know that, Raymond.
By the way, why didn't you go for managing editor?
Oh, see!
There it is!
The truth comes out!
That's what you mean by "still"!
We're changing this letter!
No, that's not what we meant.
I'm gonna write what I want in it. "
Merry Christmas, Robert."
No, no.
Let me do it!
Hey!
Hey, hold it, hold it!
I'm hungry.
You'll have to wait.
Debra and I have to finish our letter.
Look what they write about you in here, Dad.
What do you mean?
What's it say?
All they do is list your favorite cable channels, and then they say, "His love affair with bacon continues."
Is the Surgery Channel on there, Marie?
First on the list.
I'm good.
Well, I'm not, okay?
You may not think my job is so hot, but 600,000 discriminating readers do.
So you've broadened the definition of the word "discriminating" to include people who do their reading with their elbow on a roll of toilet paper?
Hey, at least I don't spend my whole life competing with my little brother!
Oh, yeah?
Let me tell you something.
I don't have to compete with you.
Oh, you don't compete?
That's all you do!
Look at this!
You saved this for 10 years!
10 years!
Oh my God.
I saved that letter for 10 years.
Oh, Robert, that's not so bad.
In a Ziploc bag!
Everything I do...
my job, my marriage, trying to get Mom and Dad's attention...
Leave me out of this.
Anytime something good happens to me, the first thought I get is, "What about that, Raymond?"
And if it's something bad, I actually say a prayer that Ray...
doesn't do so good that day.
You say a prayer? "
Come on, God.
Get him!"
I remember this letter.
I had all the stuff I was going to do when I retire on this.
Was "being nicer to your wife" on there?
Might as well have been.
It's all ridiculous crap. "
Fix up a '57 Chevy and drive it across the country."
Why would I want to do that?
That's where California is.
You all know how I feel about California...
Yes.
Yeah, yeah.
A state full of nut jobs, hippies, and artsy-fartsies.
Drive across country?
I'd rather drive off a cliff!
I'll warm up the car.
All right, here's what it should say. "
Ray entertains and informs his readers with stories that use sports to illuminate the human condition."
You heard me. "
Human condition"!
Write whatever you want, Ray.
If you're happy where you are, then so am I.
All I'm saying is, if you went for that promotion, you would get it.
Well, what if the job I have right now...
what if that's it?
Yeah, that's fine, great.
But I just think that...
No buts, all right?
Don't but!
I already tried for the stupid editor thing!
Twice!
I didn't get it, twice.
There, you happy?
Little better.
Sorry.
Why didn't you say something before?
It's not exactly something you come home bragging about.
Seriously, man, you can't keep all that stuff bottled up.
You have to share it with us...
when you fail.
Oh, sweetie.
Oh, honey!
Honey...
why don't you ever talk to me about your problems?
I'm a good listener.
I've wasted the last 10 years of my life.
Not now, Frank!
I didn't do any of the stuff on here!
Now what the hell am I?
Just a list of cable channels and a big, stinking pile of bacon waiting to die!
Big deal!
At least you weren't competing with someone your entire life.
You were your own man! "
Were your own man"?
Past tense?
You can't wait, can you?
Hey, don't worry, Dad.
You're still alive, Just like I'm "still" a writer.
I don't want to hear this kind of talk!
We should all be counting our blessings!
What blessings?
Why did you write a Christmas letter?
Look what you did!
It's not too late to do all the things on that list. "
See Frank Sinatra in concert"?
All right, all right.
Enough.
Here, make a new list and start on that.
You can do it.
You're not dead yet!
And, Robert, come on!
You're smart, successful, handsome, no matter what Ray does or doesn't do.
You're not a loser.
You're a lieutenant in the New York City Police Department!
What about me?
You're fine.
You're married to me.
All of you!
Come on!
Why'd you even have to write that letter?
It's the letter that makes us sound bad.
Get rid of the letter.
Yeah, yeah.
No!
We worked all afternoon on this!
It's our Christmas letter.
I want out of it.
I forbid you to use my name or likeness.
Oh, Frank, no!
Me too, me too!
No, Ray, come on!
I'm not gonna be the only loser in there.
I'm out, too.
This is Christmas.
We're supposed to share our joyous news of family.
It's nobody's damn business!
Damn straight!
Let's watch the game!
Guys.
The game!
Look at this.
We can't send it out like this.
What will people think?
It's just me and you now.
Here's your part, dear.
I've got to get this to the post office.
Thanks for your help, dear.
Isn't this nice?
Christmas morning, and we're all together.
Yeah, this is nice.
This is what it's all about.
Read another one, Dad.
Okay.
This one is from Linda and Dennis McCarthy.
Oh, boy!
They're the worst! "
Dear family and friends..."
We're neither.
Keep going. "
Is it Christmas already?
With our trip to Colonial Williamsburg, remodeling the living room, and Denny's successful run for city council, the months have just flown by."
City council of what city?
Jackassville?
Is there a picture with that?
Let me see the picture.
There you go.
They always send pictures.
Yeah, they always send them.
There you go.
There it is.
Looks like that living room isn't the only thing she's remodeled.
Yeah, looks like she's in a wind tunnel.
Yeah! "
The big news around here is the new addition to our family.
His name is Tic-Tac, and he's 22 lbs.
Of fuzzy fun."
That is one ugly kid.
That's the dog.
The kid's outside peeing on the fire hydrant!
Oh, I love Christmas!
Oh, hi, dear.
Thanks for watching the kids.
I really needed to get to the dentist.
It's wonderful you take all this time for yourself.
Thank you.
What are you working on there?
It's a Barone family Christmas letter.
I want to keep people up-to-date on what we've all been doing.
Don't forget to mention my new filling.
Maybe next year.
These have to go out this afternoon.
I'll go round up the kids.
Okay.
Oh, lady, you are out of your ever-loving mind!
Marie!
Oh my God!
Honey, are you all right?
Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.
What the hell are you...
You should look where you're going.
Let me get you some ice.
Marie, forget the ice.
Who are you sending this to?
You know, family and friends.
Here, put this broccoli on your head.
You cannot send this out.
I don't understand. "
Debra's cooking is coming along.
Someday I might even consider her for a job at Chez Marie."
You're considering me for a job in your restaurant?
It's not a real restaurant.
It's make-believe!
What about this? "
Debra is outnumbered by the kids 3-to-1, so I've had to help out, so now it's even."
So you're saying that you are worth two of me.
No one's going to do the math.
I'm just saying it's nice.
It's not nice.
It's you having to help poor, pathetic Debra!
And isn't that nice?
It's not true.
You are not sending this out.
Oh?
I'm not?
Not like this, no way.
Well, I'm sorry, but this is my letter, and this is America.
Fine.
You know what?
Fine.
Goodbye, Marie.
But, Debra, what about your...
Bye.
I know, I know.
I forgot the kids.
You gonna put that in your letter?
Debra...
Ow!
Ooh!
Hey, eight maids a-milkin'!
You gonna do this every night until Christmas?
Can't we just cut to "partridge in a pear tree" and be done with it?
Wow.
When we go to Macy's, you can punch Santa and kick an elf.
Sorry.
I'm sorry.
It's just that your mother is sending out this stupid family Christmas letter, and I look terrible in it.
She makes it sound as if she has to raise my kids and clean my house while I sit around and drool into a cup.
Just let her have her delusions.
What else does she have...
chasing Dad around the house with a can of Lysol?
Yeah, but she's mailing those delusions to everybody.
People are gonna think it's true!
Lt'll be, "Thank God Marie lives close enough to help that idiot woman and her dirty family!"
Hello.
I saw you pull in, Raymond, And I thought you'd like some biscotti.
Oh, thanks.
Biscotti?
No, thank you.
Actually, I made them for you, Debra.
Oh, that's nice.
It's nice.
I'm sorry, Debra!
Oh, that's so nice!
Okay, okay!
I'm sorry that letter upset you so.
It's okay, you don't have to apologize.
Have a biscotti.
Thank you.
I would love one.
I'm so glad we could put this behind us.
Me too...
it's beautiful, what's happening here.
I've got to get those letters to the post office before they close.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute!
You're still sending that letter?
Of course, dear.
I have to.
You have to?
Marie, when I speak, what is it you hear?
Is it, like, backwards-talk or dolphin squeaks?
You don't understand.
This is the reason I have to send my letter.
It's from my cousin Theresa.
It came yesterday.
Here, read. "
Merry Christmas and season's greetings to old friends and new friends, dear friends and true friends."
Enough, enough.
I can't anymore.
I thought you like Theresa.
I love her, but read this here. "
Our choir sang at the White House.
My roses were featured in 'Good Housekeeping'."
Look at all of those exclamation points.
You'd think she pulled the Pope out of quicksand or something!
So you don't like it that Theresa's doing well?
Oh, it's not that.
You know me.
I don't bother about petty jealousy.
Yeah.
That is not your style.
That's right...
I just want people to read about me and think, "Marie is doing well, too."
I understand, but can't you write a letter that makes you look good without making me look so...
Doofusy?
Yeah, doofusy.
I guess I'm just trying to make myself sound as important as Theresa.
But what am I?
I've got my kids, I've got my grandkids, him over there.
It's okay.
I'll just let the world read about me in Theresa's letter.
What did she write about you?
Not much.
How much is there, really?
Marie.
Third page, second paragraph. "
We saw Marie and her family at Kate Kelly's wedding.
They seemed to be doing well in their cozy situation, living a stone's throw from each other...
not that they'd ever throw stones, ha ha."
Oh!
She's a bitch!
Listen, I would never say that, but it's nice to hear.
Well, wait.
What's so bad? "
Not that they'd ever throw stones, ha ha"?
She's saying we don't get along.
Where does somebody get off writing that?
You know what, Marie?
You and I are gonna write our own Christmas letter together.
Oh, no.
What do you mean?
We can write a better letter than Saint Theresa.
We'll make us both look good.
Maybe you can even come up with a little dirt on her.
She does have eczema.
Great!
What are we gonna write about me?
What about all your trips to the botanical gardens?
Get up!
Come on!
What about the gardens?
You know more than most of the guides. "
Marie is the best guide at the botanical gardens."
We'll put that right in there.
We would?
Let's start right now.
The sooner we write it, the sooner we can wipe that smug grin off her dry, itchy face.
Hey, uh, excuse me.
Let's not forget it's Christmas, you know, a time for not being so...
And to all a good night.
This all looks great.
There's just one thing...
Shouldn't we use the word "selfless" to describe your work as a piano teacher?
Oh, hi, Robbie.
Hello.
Hey, Robert.
What's going on? "
Robert's meteoric rise through the NYPD has really turned some heads, both here at home and at the precinct."
What is this?
I heard you were writing a family Christmas letter, so I did my bio.
I would like it inserted verbatim.
You wrote your own thing?
Indeed I did.
But we've already finished.
Oh, really?
Is it anything like your last Christmas letter?
I haven't written a Christmas letter in 10 years.
Look familiar?
You kept that 10 years?
Oh, yes.
I wasn't exactly pleased with the way I was portrayed, and I made a solemn pledge to never let that happen again.
Dude, you are so weird.
Am I, Raymond?
Am I?
There were six lines in your section.
I got three.
Half, okay?
And after it came out, everybody gave me a pitiful, pathetic look.
You always get that look.
It was more pronounced, man!
Well, we can't change anything now.
But don't worry...
there's a lovely part about you.
Oh, yeah?
Let me see that.
Uh-huh, uh-huh, okay, mm-hmm.
Raymond gets 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...
seven lines.
And I get 1, 2, 3...
three!
Less than half!
I'm losing ground!
All right, let's see what you wrote. "
Robert is an in-demand bachelor, happily playing the field."
That's right. "
Robert loves to dance, and has been known to boogie the night away."
Let me get this straight...
you've broadened the definition of the term "boogie" to include staying home by yourself eating Wheat Thins?
I am a dancer!
What's the...
what are you getting so worked up for?
It's a Christmas letter.
It's no big deal.
Oh, yeah?
Not for you.
You've got the whole Raymond fan club doing your writing.
Let's take a gander at this year's model, shall we? "
What can you say about Raymond?
Whether he's playing with the children or playing golf, the guy loves life."
Oh, happy days! "
He is still writing his column for New York Newsday."
Whoa, whoa.
Wait a minute.
What do you mean, "still writing my column"?
Like I should be doing something better by now?
No, that's not what we meant.
It's not "still writing," it's "still writing!"
But that's not how it's gonna read!
People are gonna get the wrong impression here.
Ooh!
This is going out to everybody we know?
Of course.
Not like this, it isn't.
Come on, you're overreacting.
I am not overreacting!
Hee hee!
I could be managing editor if I wanted.
I could work for the New York Times if I wanted.
We know that, Raymond.
By the way, why didn't you go for managing editor?
Oh, see!
There it is!
The truth comes out!
That's what you mean by "still"!
We're changing this letter!
No, that's not what we meant.
I'm gonna write what I want in it. "
Merry Christmas, Robert."
No, no.
Let me do it!
Hey!
Hey, hold it, hold it!
I'm hungry.
You'll have to wait.
Debra and I have to finish our letter.
Look what they write about you in here, Dad.
What do you mean?
What's it say?
All they do is list your favorite cable channels, and then they say, "His love affair with bacon continues."
Is the Surgery Channel on there, Marie?
First on the list.
I'm good.
Well, I'm not, okay?
You may not think my job is so hot, but 600,000 discriminating readers do.
So you've broadened the definition of the word "discriminating" to include people who do their reading with their elbow on a roll of toilet paper?
Hey, at least I don't spend my whole life competing with my little brother!
Oh, yeah?
Let me tell you something.
I don't have to compete with you.
Oh, you don't compete?
That's all you do!
Look at this!
You saved this for 10 years!
10 years!
Oh my God.
I saved that letter for 10 years.
Oh, Robert, that's not so bad.
In a Ziploc bag!
Everything I do...
my job, my marriage, trying to get Mom and Dad's attention...
Leave me out of this.
Anytime something good happens to me, the first thought I get is, "What about that, Raymond?"
And if it's something bad, I actually say a prayer that Ray...
doesn't do so good that day.
You say a prayer? "
Come on, God.
Get him!"
I remember this letter.
I had all the stuff I was going to do when I retire on this.
Was "being nicer to your wife" on there?
Might as well have been.
It's all ridiculous crap. "
Fix up a '57 Chevy and drive it across the country."
Why would I want to do that?
That's where California is.
You all know how I feel about California...
Yes.
Yeah, yeah.
A state full of nut jobs, hippies, and artsy-fartsies.
Drive across country?
I'd rather drive off a cliff!
I'll warm up the car.
All right, here's what it should say. "
Ray entertains and informs his readers with stories that use sports to illuminate the human condition."
You heard me. "
Human condition"!
Write whatever you want, Ray.
If you're happy where you are, then so am I.
All I'm saying is, if you went for that promotion, you would get it.
Well, what if the job I have right now...
what if that's it?
Yeah, that's fine, great.
But I just think that...
No buts, all right?
Don't but!
I already tried for the stupid editor thing!
Twice!
I didn't get it, twice.
There, you happy?
Little better.
Sorry.
Why didn't you say something before?
It's not exactly something you come home bragging about.
Seriously, man, you can't keep all that stuff bottled up.
You have to share it with us...
when you fail.
Oh, sweetie.
Oh, honey!
Honey...
why don't you ever talk to me about your problems?
I'm a good listener.
I've wasted the last 10 years of my life.
Not now, Frank!
I didn't do any of the stuff on here!
Now what the hell am I?
Just a list of cable channels and a big, stinking pile of bacon waiting to die!
Big deal!
At least you weren't competing with someone your entire life.
You were your own man! "
Were your own man"?
Past tense?
You can't wait, can you?
Hey, don't worry, Dad.
You're still alive, Just like I'm "still" a writer.
I don't want to hear this kind of talk!
We should all be counting our blessings!
What blessings?
Why did you write a Christmas letter?
Look what you did!
It's not too late to do all the things on that list. "
See Frank Sinatra in concert"?
All right, all right.
Enough.
Here, make a new list and start on that.
You can do it.
You're not dead yet!
And, Robert, come on!
You're smart, successful, handsome, no matter what Ray does or doesn't do.
You're not a loser.
You're a lieutenant in the New York City Police Department!
What about me?
You're fine.
You're married to me.
All of you!
Come on!
Why'd you even have to write that letter?
It's the letter that makes us sound bad.
Get rid of the letter.
Yeah, yeah.
No!
We worked all afternoon on this!
It's our Christmas letter.
I want out of it.
I forbid you to use my name or likeness.
Oh, Frank, no!
Me too, me too!
No, Ray, come on!
I'm not gonna be the only loser in there.
I'm out, too.
This is Christmas.
We're supposed to share our joyous news of family.
It's nobody's damn business!
Damn straight!
Let's watch the game!
Guys.
The game!
Look at this.
We can't send it out like this.
What will people think?
It's just me and you now.
Here's your part, dear.
I've got to get this to the post office.
Thanks for your help, dear.
Isn't this nice?
Christmas morning, and we're all together.
Yeah, this is nice.
This is what it's all about.
Read another one, Dad.
Okay.
This one is from Linda and Dennis McCarthy.
Oh, boy!
They're the worst! "
Dear family and friends..."
We're neither.
Keep going. "
Is it Christmas already?
With our trip to Colonial Williamsburg, remodeling the living room, and Denny's successful run for city council, the months have just flown by."
City council of what city?
Jackassville?
Is there a picture with that?
Let me see the picture.
There you go.
They always send pictures.
Yeah, they always send them.
There you go.
There it is.
Looks like that living room isn't the only thing she's remodeled.
Yeah, looks like she's in a wind tunnel.
Yeah! "
The big news around here is the new addition to our family.
His name is Tic-Tac, and he's 22 lbs.
Of fuzzy fun."
That is one ugly kid.
That's the dog.
The kid's outside peeing on the fire hydrant!
Oh, I love Christmas!