Jake: I don't want to go to camp.
Berta: If the kid doesn't want to go, don't make him go.
Berta: He's ten, he's old enough to work.
Berta: When I was your age, I spent my summers hosing tarantulas off bananas in the back of my stepfather's truck.
Charlie: (walks into the room) What's going on?
Jake: I'm going to camp!