come on, i'm double-parked.
what about medical?
you are a single mother. you have given up the right to be frivolous.
you know how much those well child exams cost --
and that's just when he's well --
he's in the living room asleep.
sorry.
at eleven at night?
dotty -- this is not "guy.". this is a "syndrome." it's called early midlife, about-to-marry, hanging onto the-bottom-rung dear- god-don't-let-me-be-alone, i'll- call-my-newly long-suffering- assistant-without medical-for- company syndrome. and if, knowing all that, you still allow him to come over, more power to you.
okay, but he better not be good looking!
you seem just the way i pictured you. i'm her disapproving sister laurel.
i heard.
this guy would go home with a gardening tool right now if it showed interest. wait. use the frosted glasses.
look, here's some of that chicken with salsa too, i warmed it up --
but you just gotta hear me out on one thing. you're very responsible with ray and you know it's not right for a little boy to hear some strange man's voice in the house.
come on, let's get you another top --
all i'm saying. you don't have the luxury of falling for some drowning man. be practical. now. which top?
good.
hey!
forgot your keys --
no no. don't cry at the beginning of the date.
and don't be a shoulder for him to cry on either.
first you gotta tell me something.
because i'm worried that you're putting your faith in this guy who, because of the way things are going, may not have an emotional marble in his head.
guys are just different people when they're hanging onto the bottom rung.
easy, hon, i was just looking for fun details --
coffee, jerry?
you're doing the right thing. i mean, come on. you need to start your life and he.  he needs a warm body to cushion the fall. check out exhibit a on the front lawn --
if you fuck this up, i'll kill you.