Episode Report Card Al Lowe: A | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Yo, NBC Saps!
By Al Lowe | Season 1 | Episode 4 | Aired on 03.23.2010
Y'all, this is the weirdest show I have ever had to recap -- and, understand that I am saying that after recapping Make Me a Supermodel for an entire season, a show on which nothing happened at all. I'm just saying, these one minute scenes go by so fast, it's like the scripts were written on Twitter.
Not that I really believe a 15-year-old needs Internet privacy, but this time Haddie's parents have perhaps gone too far. They have enlisted the help of Crosby, who apparently possesses some kind of magical powers that allow him to divine Facebook passwords. And he has discovered that Haddie's new one is "HaddieHo." Um, shuh?! "That's not good," Adam says, which is putting it mildly. They also discern that Haddie is seeing a junior boy at her high school. "YoYo," Adam growls. In a photo on Haddie's computer, she is smooching this kid, who is wearing a hoodie. Y'all know hoodie = hoodlum, right? The kid's name is Steve Williams. "What else, what else, what else?" Kristina wants to know. Crosby: "Well, he's got a rap sheet." Heee. Adam says that's not funny, and I guess Crosby feels he has done enough prying, so he closes the computer. "Look," he says, nonchalantly. "They're Facebook-official. They're not eloping to Vegas." But Adam is worried. "Facebook-official?" he asks, in confusion. Crosby sighs. "It's not a suicide pact," he says. "They're just dating." Um... ha? I think we got the point when you made the "it's not this/it's that" joke .12 seconds ago. Teen suicides... not exactly totes funny, either.
Clearly, Adam receives this news about YoYo and leaps out the window, because suddenly he's outside, taking a call from Sarah. "How much masturbating is too much?" Adam: "I'm sorry, what?" Sarah says she means Drew. "He's in the bathroom... like, a lot. Like, six or seven times a day!" Would y'all excuse me while I go light several candles in thanks that I am the mother of a girl? I mean, it will come with its own set of challenges, but at least those challenges will seem familiar to me, damn. In any case, Adam says whatever Drew is doing is totally normal, and that he's got problems of his own. "Haddie," he says, as if it is a national emergency, "has a boyfriend." Sarah says of course she does. "She's 15 and she's cute, Adam, don't be a dork." Oh, but he's being one. "You know what?" he flips. "They're Facebook-official, and she hasn't said anything to Kristina and I about it." (Why can't people say "me and Kristina" when it is appropriate? I hate the misuse of "and I." It makes no sense!) Sarah huffs that of course Haddie wouldn't tell him about it, she's a teenager. "That's not a problem," she says. "I've got a kid who I'm afraid might injure himself." She says it's the one time she could use some help from her lame ex-husband, but she can't get him to call her back. "You know, with Amber, she got her period, and I said, 'you okay?' And she said, 'screw you!'" Sarah says. But with Drew, she goes on, she doesn't feel like she can talk to him about this like a man could. "Oh, so you want me to talk to him about it?" Adam asks. Exactly. "Just don't make him feel weird, okay?" she says. "He's just so sensitive." She just wants Adam to tell him it's normal or, uh, almost normal. Adam assures her he'll welcome Drew to the Man Club. "Tel him he can express himself in other ways, too," Sarah adds. Adam: "What, like downloading porn? That's outside the shower." Poor Sarah.
I am upset about how much Lauren Graham is having to talk about teenage boys masturbating. (I am really upset, also, that I am having to type it so many times.) Here she goes again when she is on her way out of the house and is stopped by Zeek. "Are you aware that we are in the middle of a drought?" he asks. Hee. Apparently, someone in the house is using a lot of water, and just purely from an environmental standpoint, he thinks Sarah should let him talk to Drew about his shower habits. "Mano a mano," he says. Sarah cringes. "Oohhh, no," she says. "I still bear the emotional scars of the 'little talk' we had when I was a kid, and that was a long time ago." She begs him not to say anything to Drew. "Well, sweetheart," he insists, "this is not woman's work." Sarah, though she obviously agrees, slams him for not being progressive. "Come on, honey," he says, "I'm a grandfather. This is what grandfathers are for! Send me in there!" Haa! She says thanks, but no. "Under no circumstances are you to talk to Drew about the..." Zeek: "Masturbation." She gags and rushes into her car. "Don't talk to him about it! Thanks!" she says. Zeek shrugs. "It's perfectly natural," he insists. "Even I, on occasion..." Heee. She races away as he tries to explain that, you know, not obsessively.
Back at Crosby's, Jasmine and Jabbar arrive and ask for permission to come aboard. "Oh, no!" he says. "Pirates!" Y'all, Jabbar. Cutest kid ever? It can't be denied. Jasmine thanks Crosby again for keeping Jabbar, but Crosby says he's excited about the sleepover. They have a conversation almost identical to the ones they have had in every other episode: she's going to dance; she says, as if to a babysitter, that she really appreciates Crosby taking care of Jabbar; she reminds him that she's available by phone; he says it's no problem. I really hope they give Joy Bryant something to DO in the future, damn. She could have shot all four of these episodes on the same day -- she's essentially had the same lines, blocking, everything. Anyway, as Jabbar holds a series of what appear to be shells up to his ears, Crosby tells his mom that he has "babyproofed the crap out of the place." Plus, he says, "nothing's going to go wrong, right Jabbar?" Jabbar gives a noncommittal nod. Dude is making no guarantees. Finally, Mom leaves. "No girls allowed! Ew, gross!" Crosby calls after her, before turning to Jabbar to ask the essential question: cheese or pepperoni. Cute, but isn't little man lactose-intolerant? I hate to bring it up, Jabbar -- believe me, I would like to eat some pizza, myself.
It is Come to Jesus time for Haddie. The parents open by bringing up the cell phone bill. It's more than $200 this month. "That's over a thousand minutes," Adam says. Haddie says she had no idea it was that high, which is probably true, because what teenager has any concept of money? I barely have one, now. She promptly and sincerely begins listing ways she will pay them back -- chores, babysitting, etc. But, you know, money is not the issue. "That's like, 18-hours in one month," Adam says, to one number. "Steve Williams?" Aw, snaaaap. I love Haddie's face as all of this goes down. There is nothing like the righteous indignation of a teenage girl. "How do you guys know that?" she asks, slowly. Well, her dad explains, when they couldn't reach her, they called his number. Kristina looks increasingly uncomfortable between her daughter and her husband as this conversation goes on. She jumps in that they did not talk to Steve, they just heard his voice on the message. "Yeah, 'Yo, yo, yo!'" Adam apes, and I nearly die remembering how my father acted about the first boy I dated -- at age 15. (By the way, I recently ran across said dude on Facebook and, tragically, he is now just some regular schmo. I suppose I thought he had spent the last 20 years preserved in some sort of amber solution of eternal hotness somewhere, smelling of Polo and just generally remaining untouched by time. It is hell to get old.) Haddie wants to know how they know the guy's name. "We have our ways," Kristina says, and they admit they went on her computer and looked at her Facebook page. Aw, daaaaamn. She flips OUT in such classic Katie Kaboom style. "You guys broke into my room? And you hacked into my computer?!" Adam and Kristina get defensive. They had no other way, they say, of knowing what was going on with her. "Who cares, Homeland Security!" Haddie yells. "What you guys did is illegal! You can't do that! It is a violation of... everything!" Awesome. My parents' response: "No it isn't; yes we can; you're ridiculous." Adam and Kristina pull out the big guns as Haddie runs upstairs to her room. "Hey, you're Facebook-officia