In this, the third film, it's the pets who do the talking. The Ubriacco's find themselves the owners of two dogs, Rocks, a street wise cross breed, and Daphne, a spoiled pedigree poodle. ... See full summary »

[Daphne and Rocks are starting at each other]
Julie Ubriacco: Look! They like each other!
James: [to Mollie] See honey, they like each other.
Daphne: Mongrel.
Rocks: Bitch.
Mikey Ubriacco: Stop brushing her, Julie. She already looks like a Q-tip.
Julie Ubriacco: Your dog smells like a diaper.
Mikey Ubriacco: Does not!
Julie Ubriacco: Diaper dog! Diaper dog!
Mikey Ubriacco: Q-tip head dog.
Julie Ubriacco: Stinky dog!
Mikey Ubriacco: Bald-butted dog.
Mollie: [dressed up like an elf] I need to get these shoes off, my toes are curling.
Mollie: You want to open another one of your presents?
Mikey Ubriacco: It's probably just more stupid clothes.
Mollie: Well you know what? If it weren't for them you'd be freezing your little tushie off right now.
Julie Ubriacco: Yeah!
Mollie: When he gets nervous, he gets completely honest. That is a major business liability.
James: Honey, this isn't me. I wanna be myself.
Mollie: Okay, you're not gonna get this job if you're yourself.
[Rocks and Daphne are staring at each other]
Julie Ubriacco: Look, they like each other.
Daphne: Mongrel.
Rocks: Bitch.
James: [to Mollie] See, honey. They like each other.
Mikey Ubriacco: I don't wanna brush my teeth. I brushed them last Saturday!
James: I know, but you're gonna have plants growing out of your mouth.
Mollie: [opening pay envelope] Pink! Mine's pink today... how festive!
[reads paper, faints]
Mikey Ubriacco: We need a dog. 'Cause like those guys who come to our door to sell stuff, he could chew their legs off.
Mollie: [Mollie is confronting a wolf]
Julie Ubriacco: [from the car] Mommy found another doggie!
James: Look, they're gonna know my wife put me in this suit. It's the color of poo.
Mollie: Most little girls are obsessed with ponies and mermaids, not big sweaty men making jump shots. Should we be worried? Mike!
James: Well, it's the Suns, honey. If it were the Mavericks, I'd be worried.
Mikey Ubriacco: [after he and James have brought Rocks home and have seen Daphne for the first time] I like Rocks better...
James: [putting his hand over Mikey's mouth] A dog! A dog! Finally a dog! We'll playw ith your Rocks later.
Mikey Ubriacco: [muffled] Okay, no problem
Mollie: As I was just telling Samantha, there's no way we'd take her precious baby away.
[as Samantha leaves room, she grabs James and gives him a suspicious look]
James: [citing the 'dog school' Daphne attended] Radcliffe, honey, Radcliffe!
[walks away]
Dogs: That's Your Last Meal Amigo
Dogs: Then It's a Big Nap For You
Mollie: James.
James: What?
Mollie: Don't tell jokes.
James: I'm funny!
Mollie: You *are* funny, honey, in sort of a...
James: Corny.
Mollie: Corny, kind of funny.
Rocks: Ma, hey Ma! Check it out! I got these things on my face to open. I can see! I can see... wrinkly butts. Yuck!
Rocks's mother: Oh, they're not mine. They're your brothers' and sisters.'
Rocks: Good. That makes me the cute one.
James: Mike, what do you think of this suit?
Mikey Ubriacco: You look like my principal.
James: See? Even he thinks it's stupid.
Mollie: *He* is not offering you a dental plan.
Daphne: I hate this haircut, my butt is freezing!
Rocks: Ha ha, cute butt.
Daphne: What's your name?
Rocks: They call me No.
Daphne: Silly, that's not your name. That's what they say when you're bad. There must be something else, what're they always calling you?
Rocks: Well there is that rocks thing.
Daphne: Rocks, that's it!
Mollie: No, I'm a Vulcan. Want a death grip?
Mollie: [Mollie is calling Mr Conti to locate her husband and Samantha through a noisy office party]
Mr Conti's Secretary: Mr. Conti's office? WHAT cabin? I'm sorry, there must be some mistake. Mr Conti is in the Bahamas with his family-EEEEEEEE
Mr Conti's Secretary: [gets prodded in a ticklish area by a playful workmate, laughs zealously]
Mollie: Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess, and she moved to Queens. The end.
Julie Ubriacco: That's not a story!
Mollie: It is tonight. Good night.
Mollie: [on the phone] Oh yeah? Well Merry Christmas you bimbo!