“Envy the kangaroo. That pouch setup is extraordinary; the baby crawls out of the womb when it is about two inches long, gets into the pouch, and proceeds to mature. I'd have a baby if it would develop in my handbag.”

“How true, how true" said the Sour Kangaroo, "And from now on, you know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to protect them with you!"
And the Young Kangaroo in her pouch said "Me too!”

“Lots of my friends have babies, but I don't have any babies. But I have lots of friends; babies don't have any friends. They all have those baby-monitors so they can hear the baby from the other room, which I consider a form of wiretapping. One day there's gonna be a really smart baby who makes a fake recording of some fake baby noises…gonna crawl out of the window and go to Italy.”

“By the way, when you finish the bottle of Crown Royal, you can still use the pouch to hold your broken dreams.”

“Boomer Envy: Envy of material wealth and long-range material security accrued by older members of the baby boom generation by virtue of fortunate births.”

“I don't have any children, but if I had a baby, I would have to name it so I'd buy a baby naming book. Or I would invite somebody over who had a cast on.”

“Even as a baby I quickly learned to crawl out of my crib. … They'd put up barriers but I learned how to go over them.”

“See, you learn about humans when you have a baby. Like girls. Girls are so much more advanced than boys. I seriously think that girls are born in conversation. Like, they come out of the womb, talking: "Are you my mother? Lovely to put a face to a name."”

“My wife wants a dog. She already has a baby. The baby’s almost two. My wife says that the baby wants the dog.
My wife has been wanting a dog for a long time. I have had to be the one to tell her that she couldn’t have one. But now the baby wants a dog, my wife says. This may be true. The baby is very close to my wife. They go around together all the time, clutching each other tightly. I ask the baby, who is a girl, “Whose girl are you? Are you Daddy’s girl?” The baby says, “Momma,” and she doesn’t just say it once, she says it repeatedly, “Momma momma momma.””

“A lady I will be, but a man's accessory, his handbag, no thank you. I will not be someone's ornament. I will not just be someone's honey, baby, sweetheart.”