David enters, his mother is at the kitchen table crying.

David's Mom: When your father was here, I used to think, "This was it. This is the way it was always going to be. I had the right house. I had the right car. I had the right life."
David: There is no right house. There is no right car.
David's Mom: God, my face must look like a mess.
David: It looks great.
David's Mom: It's really sweet of you but I'm sure it does not look great.
David: Sure it does. Come here.
David's Mom: I'm 40 years old. I mean it's not supposed to be like this.
David: It's not supposed to be anything.

-- Pleasantville