Homer: Ah, afternoon Mr. Burns!
Burns: Hello there... uh... uh...
Homer: [whispers to Smithers] Simpson, Homer.
Smithers: [hands an index card to Burns] Here you go, sir.
Burns: Ah! Oh yes... [reads the card] Oh, and this must be your
lovely wife... Marge.
Burns: Ho ho, look at little... uh... [consults the card] Lisa!
Why, she's growing like a weed. And this must be... uh, Brat!
Brat: [unimpressed] Bart.
Homer: Don't correct the man, Brat!
-- "There's No Disgrace Like Home"