Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You know, I never really stopped to look at a pregnant woman before.
Everything in my life has to be able to fit into my car.
Problem number two: I'm not sure if it's my baby.
Okay.
On your mark, get set...
...before Mr. Stork drops down the chimney.
...because I noticed you weren't wearing a wedding ring...
Does that make sense?
No. No, I do some of my best work laying down.
-Why I want to do this. -Yeah, why?
We could work all these problems out. I just want to be ready, that's all.
No, I'm here to meet someone. A woman.
...or just that you got a hold of some bad oysters?
No. Seven-and-a-half months.
Cheers.
There's also my rule about everything in my life having to fit into my car.
-What's wrong, Mrs. Jacobson? -Missus?
Do you mind if I ask you something a little less complicated?
...hiccupping, turning somersaults, fighting Communism."
...watching a meteor shower shoot out of Orion's belt.
-Good. -Let's call it a night.
Please, I need you to do this. I'm willing to pay you.
And also that what we are doing...
No cracks about my weight.
...would feel a little awkward.
That means over the next eight weeks, you moms will be learning...
What do you say we just limit this to arms and legs for right now?
No, I mean, when a baby kicks inside.
But God, I'm tired.
Couldn't sleep at all tonight.
...and I'm not wearing one either, so I was wondering...
For her, anyway.
Eating like there's no tomorrow, kicking like a Rockette.
Maybe. Thanks.
Laura's medium-brim hat offers an elegant hauteur.
And if either of you isn't sure about....
...a Beverly Hills detective....
Look, I know that....
...feel.
Maybe you're right. Maybe it is crazy.