Of the leash
-
For a pair of pants
His favorite pastime
For the last time
-
Why can't I be a normal kid like any other?
Now, doodle bug, listen to mother.
I hate dogs.
I do not wish to be a dog.
Yes!
Meet Sacagawea,
the little Native American bird girl
who was such a helper bee to Lewis and Clark's expedition
that our government has chosen to honor her
by putting her picture on the new $1 coin.
Hmm.
Sacagawea was also the answer
to last night's $16,000 question
on "How'd You Like to be a Zillionaire?"
How much did they win?
Did they get it right?
Do I know my students or what?
All righty, then.
Now, remember, boys and girls,
tomorrow class will be dismissed one hour early...
So I can meet with your parents
and discuss your progress this term.
Yeah!
I mean, boo.
So what's with the inappropriate outburst
and subsequent pathetic attempt to conceal your joy?
Didn't you hear what she said?
It's parent-teacher conference day tomorrow,
the day every kid in the world
lives in dread of
because of what their teacher might tell their parent,
except for me-- Leonard Helperman--
because my teacher is my parent.
It's Leonard's day! Oh, yeah!
So what you're saying is every other day stinks.
Uh-huh. What? No.
Sure, I can see that.
If you do well in class, you impress your mother,
but all the kids think you're the teacher's pet.
If you don't do well,
both your mom and your teacher are...
Disappointed in you.
What kind of existence is that?
Constantly at war with yourself--
"do I hang with the kids or do I please my mom?"
Day after day, week after week.
How do you go on living?
Yeah, well, thanks for understanding.
They don't call me man's best friend for nothing.
So, Leonard, about this parent-teacher deal...
Boy, were you ever right when you said
life as a teacher's kid stinks.
But about the parent-teacher conferences...
Remember the other day when mom went to the bathroom
and put me in charge of writing down names
of anyone who wasn't working on their math problems?
Everyone called me Leonardict Arnold.
Yes, that was very wrong of whoever coined
that extremely clever
historical reference/play-on-your-name.
So, getting back to my parent-teacher thing...
How about the time we were doing anatomy
and she brought in my naked baby pictures?
Well, in her defense, they were adorable.
But let's stay on track. My parent-teacher conference.
And how about when she forgets we're at school
and calls me Lenny Penny?
All right, all ready!
You think we can spare one second of this conversation
to talk about me?
What do you have to talk about?
Your mom's not the teacher. You've got no problems.
Uh, Leonard, I hate to ruin your special moment,
but have you considered the fact
that tomorrow is parent conference day,
and Scott Leadready is a boy without a parent?
Oh, gee, I never thought about that.
Why would you? You've got a mom.
It's the kind of thing
only a guy without a mom thinks about.
My mom...
Hey, are you about to sing?
I think I am.
I snuggle her
We laugh and roll
Her sweet behind
Her eyes are kind
And wondering
Might just maybe
Where she is, too
"Ow-wooo"
Well, I guess if a dog can go to school,
shouldn't be surprised you can sing.
And beautifully.
Hi, guys.
Oh, Leslie, hi.
We were just, you know, hanging out,
not singing.
Whatever.
Hey, Leonard, remember that time I brought your mom
some fresh Granny Smith apples
from my Granny Smith's Granny Smith apple farm?
I guess.
Well, make sure your mom remembers it
before my parent-teacher conference tomorrow.
Bring it up at dinner, but make it sound casual.
Got it?
Sure, Leslie.
Great, thanks. Bye.
Bye.
Hey, wait a sec. Do that again.
What?
That high cracky-voice thing.
You made yourself sound like a woman.
-Did not! -Yeah, like that. It's perfect.
I don't know what you're talking about.
With that voice, a wig,
maybe a nice pair of 2-inch heels,
you can play my mother tomorrow
at the parent-teacher conference.
Oh, no. No. No, no, no.
No way.
Please?
I am not doing this.
Hmm. Dilemma.
Scott should have a fashionable mother,
someone who's not afraid to show a little leg,
but would her knees be this scabby?
I guess we'll have to go with the less stylish
mid-calf length to hide the scabs.
We'll just draw the eye away from the problem area
with a bold scarf statement.
Pretty Boy, be a dear
and fly me over that polka-dot number.
-This is sick. -Yeah, I keep telling him.
Boys are not meant to play their dog's mother.
I'm talking about a polka-dot scarf
with a floral dress.
I'm wretching here from the clash already.
Phbt. Since when are you Mr. Fashion?
Since they started papering my cage
with the style section, smart guy.
Yech.
I personally think
it's très more chic than lime-green feathers
with an orange beak.
Hey, I was born this way. My father's from Jersey!
Please, please! Don't fight, guys.
Pretty Boy, if it helps, you pick the scarf.
If it were me, I'd skip the scarf altogether.
He's got a lovely neck.
Maybe just a simple strand of pearls.
La-la-la-la-la! I don't hear you.
I'm not doing this. I'm not doing this!
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Aah!
Phbt.
What are you doing here?
What am I doing here? What are you doing here?
The last thing I recall you saying was,
"la-la-la-la-la! I don't hear you! I'm not doing this!"
It's a woman's prerogative to change his mind.
Besides, you're my best friend.
I got to help you no matter what.
Oh, Leonard, that is so...
Ball!
Ptui!
I can't believe you used one of my toys.
What the devil is going on here?
Leonard Helperman, why are you wearing a dress?
Why, sir,
the young man was just telling me
about the marvelous research paper he's doing
on gender roles in our society.
He's quite a credit to this school.
Oh, yes, yes. Yes, he is.
Beat it, Leonard.
I don't believe we've met.
Don't mind her. Tallulah gets insanely jealous
if I even look at a beautiful woman.
We don't want to give your poor dear pussycat
the vapors, do we?
So I'll just be toddling off
to my parent-teacher conference. Toodle-oo.
Tallulah, calm down, honey.
It's just a woman.
A beautiful woman.
It's not like I was paying attention
to a dog or anything.
He bought it. That was genius!
Pure genius.
Yeah, well, Principal Strickler's a pushover
for a gorgeous woman like me.
Your mom might not be quite so easy.
You're such a super woman, Mrs. Leadready,
to raise a super son like Scott
without his dad around.
Well, but no less super a woman than you are
to raise a super son like Leonard.
Well, aren't we two just super?
Dee-duper.
I hope you'll excuse me for staring at your dress
all the way through our conference.
I used to have one exactly like it.
Oh, really?
Well, I guess they must have sold a lot that year.
I finally had to put mine out in the rack bin
because it had a huge hole in the back.
Well, you certainly can't go walking around
with a huge hole, now can you?
Huge hole, mnh-mnh.
That reminds me, I promised a dear, dear friend
I'd pop by and view her slides of the Grand Canyon.
Fiddle-Dee-Dee. Must trot.
Wait. I feel like we've just begun to bond.
Ooh, light bulb.
Since our boys get along so well
and you and I have the same taste in dresses,
why don't Leonard and I have you and Scott
over to our house for dinner tonight?
Oh, no, we couldn't possibly impose like that.
I make a pot roast so tender,
it falls right off the bone.
What time--
Time should we be there?
I can't believe you told my mom
that you and your mom would come over for dinner.
Pot roast, Leonard. She said pot roast.
I just crumbled. Don't you see?
I love pot roast, and all I ever get
is gristle and shreds in a bowl of warm water.
I mean, I love gristle, don't get me wrong,
but to get my own whole plate of pot roast
served up hot at the table,
and plus, I'm going to be Scott and Mrs. Leadready,
so I'll get two whole plates full of--
uh-oh.
Wait a minute.
I have to be Scott and Mrs. Leadready.
I was wondering when you were going to figure that out.
Now would be when I figured that out.
Okay, okay, we can do this. Don't panic.
I don't have to be two different people.
Oh, curse you, pot roast!
You savory, moist temptress.
I suppose you're wondering why I've called you all here.
'Cause you like wearing a dress?
Okay, meeting adjourned. Thanks for sharing.
I left a nap for this?
If I'm going to pull off this tour de force
triple-identity performance
of simultaneously portraying Scott's mother, Scott,
and my own dog self, I'm going to need some help.
What's it worth to you?
I'm asking for your help.
Right, it means you're desperate.
When I smell desperation, I say,
"hey, what's in it for the canary, baby?"
He's an excellent business man.
I'm giving him power of attorney to represent me as well.
And you call yourselves pets.
Pet, schmet. What do you got?
I want a bowl full of sunflower seeds,
cracked, no shells, and pages
from the teeny-weeny bikini issue of Sporterrific
lining my cage for the next month.
My needs are simple.
I'd like the juice from a dozen cans of tuna
warmed to 6 degrees above room temperature
and served in a silver chalice
upon a satin pillow.
Ah, for crying out loud.
All right, just the tuna.
It's all I really wanted.
The rest was just a negotiating ploy.
Deal. Deal! Ingrates.
Okay, now here's what I want you two to do.
Okay, on "action."
And... action.
I said action!
Am I not to be groomed for my role?
Get out there.
I didn't hear "action."
Action.
Boys, boys, behave yourselves.
We're expecting guests.
All right, that's it.
If you two can't get along,
one of you is going to have to go outside.
And now I return to the role I was born to play,
the cat slumbering in the window.
What took you so long?
You try pulling a zipper up your back
with a pair of paws.
Mrs. Leadready,
please, come in.
I've got bacon and liver wraps
fresh from the oven. Yum.
Well, that makes the whole trip worthwhile.
I'll take six.
Where's Scott?
Well, my heavens, he was right on my tail,
that little rascal.
Let me see if he's lollygagging in the car.
Ooh, may I?
-Hi, Leonard. -Hi, Mrs. H.
Ooh, where's my mom?
She just went out looking for you, dear.
Psst, pearls.
Ooh, bacon and liver wraps. I'll take some of those.
As soon as your mom comes in,
we'll all be sitting down for dinner.
Um, excuse me.
Uhh! Now!
Y'all just g'won
and sit down without me.
I'm presently indisposed.
"G'won"?
I've never been south of Al's Pet Shop.
Oh, um, well, uh, I suppose we can sit down.
So far, so good.
You can let Spot in.
Ha ha ha ha.
I love to watch the monkeys dance.
Um, okay, Mom.
No problem.
Me and Scott will just go right out there
and let Spot in.
Where's Scott, Leonard?
Don't you want to introduce your friend to your dog?
Oh, I'm right in here, Mrs. Helperman.
Oh, yes, you're a cute fella.
Yes. Yes, you sure are.
Where's Mrs. Leadready?
She's been in that powder room an awfully long time.
I'll be there in a jiff, dearie pies.
Now where did Spot and Scott go?
Be right there, Mrs. Helperman.
Get away from me, you filthy canine.
I detest dogs.
Principal Strickler?
I just thought this might be a fine evening
for us to review the fourth grade curriculum.
Well, this isn't really a good time.
We're having the Leadreadys over for dinner.
Mrs. Leadready is here?
I had no idea.
Gosh, I hope she likes poinsettias.
Mmm, is that pot roast I smell?
My favorite.
Oh, well, um, ha ha,
I suppose there's always room for one more.
Well, if you haven't got an extra chair,
Mrs. Leadready can always share with me.
I have an extra chair.
Leonard, please call everybody in.
Sure, I'll get him-- her-- him-- them.
No, that's not right...
I wear the heels with the hair
and the sneakers with the shorts.
Or is it the sneakers with heels
and the hair with the shorts?
Oh, Leonard, I don't know what to do.
I think I bit off more than I could chew.
Yeah, playing three different personalities
is kind of a lot.
Not the personalities. The bacon-liver wraps.
I should have stopped at six.
Uh-oh, now the kitchen's starting to spin.
I want my mommy!
Honey, where are the Leadreadys?
Oh, uh, hi, Mom.
Um, they weren't feeling so good,
so they, uh, went home.
Must have been all those bacon-liver wraps.
Uh, she said she'll, uh, call you later...
Or next month
or whenever they're feeling better.
Oh, well.
That's a crying shame.
Oh, well. More for us!
Ha ha ha!
Mmm, just like I like it--
falling off the bone.
Oh, no, Spot, my poor puppy.
You're not feeling well either?
Oh, that's okay, baby. I'm here.
Mommy will take care of you.
Hey, how do you know that song?
Hmm. I'm not sure.
I don't remember ever learning it,
but every mom I've ever met has known it.
Isn't cold, wet, and black
Your Spotty loves you
Good night, boys.
Well, she may not have a tail or whiskers,
but I guess in all the ways that count,
your mom is my mom, too.
Yeah, I guess she really is.
Boy, it's great to have a mom.
It's pretty great having a brother, too--
someone who likes me and wants to be with me
and trades with me so I can sleep
in the top bunk once in a while.
Good night, Spot.
Good night, Leonard.
Oh, all right.
-Ew! -What?
I just laid on a chew toy.