Furthermore, the cakes were doughy in the middle.
"For gosh sake, Marie, give that kid his bottle!" Bud exploded again.
"Use the brains God gave yuh--such as they are! By heck, I'll stick that darn book in the stove.

Ain't yuh got any feelings at all?
Why, I wouldn't let a dog go hungry like that! Don't yuh reckon the kid knows when he's hungry?
Why, good Lord! I'll take and feed him myself, if you don't.

I'll burn that book--so help me!" "Yes, you will--not!" Marie's voice rose shrewishly, riding the high waves of the baby's incessant outcry against the restrictions upon appetite imposed by enlightened motherhood.

"You do, and see what'll happen! You'd have him howling with colic, that's what you'd do." "Well, I'll tell the world he wouldn't holler for grub! You'd go by the book if it told yuh to stand 'im on his head in the ice chest! By heck, between a woman and a hen turkey, give me the turkey when it comes to sense.

They do take care of their young ones--" "Aw, forget that! When it comes to sense---" Oh, well, why go into details?
You all know how these domestic storms arise, and how love washes overboard when the matrimonial ship begins to wallow in the seas of recrimination.
Bud lost his temper and said a good many things should not have said.
Marie flung back angry retorts and reminded Bud of all his sins and slights and shortcomings, and told him many of mamma's pessimistic prophecies concerning him, most of which seemed likely to be fulfilled.
Bud fought back, telling Marie how much of a snap she had had since she married him, and how he must have looked like ready money to her, and added that now, by heck, he even had to do his own cooking, as well as listen to her whining and nagging, and that there wasn't clean corner in the house, and she'd rather let her own baby go hungry than break a simp rule in a darn book got up by a bunch of boobs that didn't know anything about kids.