Happy first day of school breakfast!
This year's theme... Second. Guess why?
Because the theme is always just whatever grade I'm starting?
Not true. Pre-school was "Bunnies."
Now, sit.
This year,
we're having Stackie Robinsons
in honor of Hall of Fame second baseman Jackie Robinson.
I had a protein shake before my run.
I've been up since 5:00.
You went for a run?
- Alone? In the dark? - Relax.
I was on the treadmill.
Blacktop is murder on my knees.
Yikes. Better hit the road.
Hit the road to school, right?
Yeah. Where else would I be going?
Um, your high-powered job in advertising?
You haven't changed a bit.
Yeah. Neither have you.
We stopped for coffee.
Sophie got a punch card. Her next coffee's free.
Then we listened to NPR the whole ride here.
It's like she went away
to Lance Bass Space Camp a little girl
and came back a middle-aged commuter.
She reminds me of my mom.
Did Graham change at Lance Bass Space Camp?
Ask him yourself.
I'm a new man, W.C.
Check it.
- Ankle socks. - See?
Sophie wants to be an emancipated minor
and Graham's got a sock thing.
Change is everywhere.
So true.
I don't know how I'm gonna handle
Jack starting pre-school.
Okay. Mwah. Okay.
Enjoy your first day, buddy.
Make me proud.
You know this school starts
at kindergarten, right?
Huh.
Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com
This is Ben.
He got mono and was bedridden most of August.
Big Benny!
Look at the tan on you!
Ow. Geez.
Someone's been working out.
- Hand sanitizer. - Of course.
Rory Banks, class president.
Please tell Will that change is good.
Uh, okay.
Is this based on
something you were talking about earlier, or...
You know what? I don't care.
- Will, change can be good. - Oh, please.
Name one good change that's ever happened,
and you can't say cucumbers into pickles.
Moms, dads, and non-binary life-givers,
I am Generation Z's Homily Pronstroller.
I recently sold my horse-share app
for enough money to take a gap year
teaching second grade before I run for Congress.
Will last year's Room Parent
please raise their hand or a limb of their choosing?
Hi, everyone.
Listen, I know that change can be scary, okay?
But in this topsy-turvy world,
one constant remains.
I am and forever shall remain your Room Parent.
Gotcha!
I asked you to identify yourself
so as to eliminate you from contention.
Here.
It's all in the Hilltop Charter.
Does it say why they named it Hilltop?
'Cause it's flat as hell around here.
A new law has been passed.
The Every-Other-Year Room Parent Act?
"No parent of any child shall be Room Parent
for a term of two consecutive years"?
So, because I was Room Parent in first grade,
I can't be Room Parent in second grade?
So, the soonest I can be Room Parent again
is third grade?
So, for the next 365 days,
I have to drift through life purposeless,
my identity stripped away
like so much old wallpaper?
Mm-hmm.
Now, who is familiar with
how a "not it" vote works?
It's pretty complicated, so pay close attention...
- Not it! - Not it!
It! It! It!
Presenting your 2019-2020 Hilltop Elementary School
- Second Grade Room Parent! - No, no, no! No!
Not it!
Not it! I was in the bathroom!
I said "not it" in the bathroom,
but you just didn't hear!
Not it! Not it!
Oh, no.
Did something terrible happen in politics?
Kidding.
You're waiting to see if Derek has written back.
And he has not.
I pour my heart out in an e-mail to Graham's dad
that it took an entire summer to break, outline, draft,
edit, polish, punch-up, spell-check, and finally send,
and what do I hear back?
Nothing.
And if he'd written you back,
that would have made you happy, or...?
Of course not.
Where does he get off writing me back?
No one refuses to even entertain the idea
of a positive outcome like you.
Thanks.
I feel seen.
- Can I tell you guys something? - Mm.
Pre-school costs money, and money is the one...
actually, one of the fi...
eh, let's just say one of the 20 things I don't have.
Well, Miggy, you've been working here
for almost a year with scattered success.
So, I guess we can talk about a raise.
I would love to say excitement caused that,
- but it just slipped. - Mm.
You know, I can get Miggy a temp job,
but it would mean fewer shifts here.
Would you be okay with that?
Would I be okay with
not losing 50 glasses a week to Slippy Longdroppings?
With not having to sweep up a nightly trail of blood
and broken stemware?
With getting out of a situation
that's costing me money?
The answer's yes, girl.
Yeah, those are rhetorical questions.
- Oh. Ohhh. - Yeah.
- Hey, Miggy? - Hmm?
You know, if you're truly desperate for money,
I can get you a job.
A job in the grimmest, grossest,
most awful place in the world.
So, this is where I work.
Now, you're gonna go through each deposition,
and every time you see the word
"propane," "rectum,"
or "shards," highlight it.
Propane, rectum, shards.
Got it. Then what do I do?
You do it again.
And again.
Until the Earth collides with the sun
and our souls are finally free.
Cool.
Rectum.
Oh, sh...
Not shards.
Nice try, sharks.
What a lawsuit.
Rectum.
Propaaane!
There has to be a way to regain our rightful roles
as Not Room Parent and Room Parent.
I mean, the twins... they want their space, and so do I.
That's why I don't volunteer at their school
and they don't work as doctors in my dermatology group.
Sophie's trying to pull away, so obviously,
I need to be around her more, not less, right?
We need to create a situation where you are so negligent,
Ms. Pronstroller has to remove you.
And you act so heroically
that Ms. Pronstroller has to reinstate you.
Where no children are in actual danger...
But it sure as hell looks like they are.
Hmm, negligence, heroism, perceived danger.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Never.
Next Friday's field trip to the Natural History Museum.
The Room Parent has to chaperone.
I can be there as a private citizen,
and what's less dangerous than history?
Gonna have to ride on a school bus, won't I?
Lucky.
We are a buddy collective, not a buddy system.
So, we're only as strong as our weakest buddy.
Do not be that buddy.
Will? What... I'm o...
- Douglas! What are you... - What are you doing here?
I'm just enjoying the museum
- and nothing else! - I'm chaperoning a field trip!
- Is that today? - I know.
- I've completely forgotten! - I-I've heard of coincidences,
- but this is ridiculous! - This is... takes the cake.
- Okay, let's go over the plan. - Yeah.
You get a kid to commit the most heinous act imaginable
at a museum... touching a bone.
Not a load-bearing bone, but still a bone.
And before the kid touches the bone, you say...
"Someone stop that kid.
It's my job,
but I'm too drunk to Room Parent today."
Then you will swoop in from the gift shop,
you will stop the kid pre-bone touch
and save the day.
We heard your plan to get out of being Room Parent.
It has holes.
We're not mad.
We understand.
You being here is as uncomfortable for us
as it is for you.
We can help with the plan.
We're born accomplices.
Or we can make sure the plan goes horrible wrong.
We're also born saboteurs.
- Your move, Dad. - All right.
Well, look, I'm way too desperate
and, frankly, too proud of both of you
to be angry.
- Way to turn the screws. - Okay.
Amy and I will find a patsy
to touch a non-load-bearing bone.
You sit tight and practice your line.
Let's hear it.
"Someone stop that kid."
Little flat.
I don't believe you believe it.
These things suck.
We cover a topic that should take 10 minutes,
except people participate for no reason
and we're trapped here for days.
Participation? Gross.
I'm so glad you're here.
Who can name a piece of technology
they use in their job?
Don't answer, people.
Let her say it. Keep things moving.
- Computers? - Printers?
Nice. Such good examples of technology, you guys.
But no one's guessed the piece of technology
we're here to talk about today.
- Are you curious what it is? - No.
Now, who can give me an example
of something we do on our phones?
- We talk. - We sure do, don't we?
What else?
Please take my belt and shoelaces.
I'm afraid of what I might do.
We listen!
That's right. We listen.
Miggy.
Huh?
Swear to me that you just said that
to keep things moving.
- Swear to me you're not enjoying this. - I-I'm not.
I hate it just like you. I mean, listen to her.
Every effective work-related voicemail
begins with three things...
your full name, your extension, and a brief ice-breaker
about a relatable topic like the weather.
What kind of dumb-dumb leaves a voicemail like that?
I don't know why
that exhibit was recommended for 16 and up.
I mean, I learned a lot.
What are you doing here?
You're not the Room Parent.
I am here as a private citizen.
The fact that we're here on the same day...
total coincidence.
Is that a new sweatshirt?
What happened to the sweatshirt you left the house in?
It's not really me anymore, so I donated it.
For tax purposes.
Who's the patsy?
Someone stop that kid!
It's my job,
but I'm too drunk to Room Parent today!
But I left an encouraging note in that sweatshirt.
Was it different than the encouraging note in my shoe?
They were similar, but of a piece.
I said, "Someone stop that kid!
It's my job,
but I'm too drunk to Room Parent today!"
Hey, what has gotten into you?
You've been so different ever since you got back from space camp.
Why is...
Graham so close to that dinosaur?
Great question.
Wait, what's "load-bearing"?
Oh, well.
Go! Go, go, go! Get out of here!
Kids, run!
Ange, you know why I'm here.
No.
But I'm not questioning it,
like when one roll of toilet paper
says it equals four rolls of toilet paper.
Like, what am I gonna do? Unroll it and measure?
Thank you for giving me the same benefit of the doubt
that you give toilet paper.
But no. I'm here because I got a voicemail from Miggy.
He's quitting the Winebrary
because he loves working here.
Boing, boing, ding, dong, dooey.
See? I can talk nonsense, too.
Miggy's a creative spirit.
I mean, he needs the flexibility of the Winebrary
while he follows his dreams,
be it Beach Sneaks or Swimming Jeans
or Scareskunk... the scarecrow for skunks.
Relax, okay?
I-I promise, Miggy hates it here.
No. Listen to this voicemail.
Hello, this is Miggy LeFassbender Park.
Extension 6921.
Can you believe this humidity? Whew!
His full name, extension number,
and a brief ice-breaker
about a relatable topic like the weather.
Yeah? W-What does that mean?
It means follow me and pray we're not too late.
Well, I've got bad news for VH1,
'cause there's a new "Best Week Ever."
And it's the one I just had here!
Hey! Hey! Oh!
Give me some!
Hey, it happens.
I fought the bones, and the bones won.
Well, I just spoke to Principal Biscuits,
and he said that despite what transpired today,
future accounts...
shall remember Douglas as a hero.
Because people drink,
kids touch things, skeletons fall.
But Douglas kept his cool,
and that... that's what a real Room Parent does.
No!
What a real Room Parent does
is takes their case straight to the top!
Okay, easy. These kids are still skittish.
You have to know that your excited voice
sounds exactly like giant clattering bones.
Straight to the top.
I'm being briefed by the Joint Line-Leaders in five minutes.
You have four. Make them count.
All right, look, Rory, here's the deal...
We need a favor, okay?
Amend Hilltop's charter so that...
I've already done a favor.
Over the summer,
I received a postcard from a constituent asking me to pass
the Every-Other-Year Room Parent Act.
So, I did. That was the favor.
Who was the constituent?
I've been sworn to secrecy.
But this is too Shakespearean to pass up.
Sophie.
Nairobi.
Cooper.
That was a really insensitive way of delivering that news.
W-Why do you care if I quit the Winebrary?
Remember all the stuff you caught me doing
when we were on "Undercover Boss"?
Okay, again, we were never on "Undercover Boss."
I just wore a hat that day.
Poppy, the Winebrary gave me time to follow my dreams,
but I've found something better...
the joy of mindless busy work.
When I was developing Scareskunk,
there was always more I could be doing.
But now, I leave work at 5:00
and don't think about it until 9:00 the next day.
And I can be 100% present with Jack.
You leave Jack out of this. What about the small talk?
- Yeah! - I love it.
The small talk is the busy work of conversation.
Look, Miggy, this isn't just about
you following your dreams.
I miss you.
You were always there when I needed to talk.
I'll still be there.
I do live upstairs from you.
True.
Okay.
Then you're fired.
Thank you. I'll never forget this.
Must be nice to wrap everything up in a bow,
but can we get back to my thing now?
Miggy, if you love it here so much,
why did you pretend to hate it?
Because you hated it here. I'm an empath, girl.
And Poppy told me it's just easier.
Yes, okay.
Sometimes I pretend to hate the things that you hate
because it's the cost of doing business,
the business here being staying friends with you.
O-O-Okay.
There's only one way to save this friendship,
and it's as follows.
Eh... Quittin' time.
Let's pick this up first thing Monday.
All right. Bye-bye.
So, it might not have totally been a coincidence,
me being at the museum today.
I'm sorry.
Don't be.
It was good we had an extra pair of hands
to drag Ms. Pronstroller out
from underneath the Tyrannosaurus pelvis.
True, but I need to stop fighting the fact
that you're growing up
and give you the lowercase space you deserve,
because I know Lance Bass uppercase Space Camp
made you realize that having me around all the time
might not be so great.
No.
Lance Bass... uppercase Space Camp
made me realize that you being around all the time is...
too great.
20 seconds to impact.
Still waiting on your orders, Captain Cooper.
Do I deactivate the atmospheric shield or not?
If you deactivate the shield,
every last molecule of oxygen escapes
and the terra-forming colony will die!
If I don't deactivate it, you'll incinerate on impact,
sacrificing yourself, your crew,
and your priceless cargo of frozen seeds.
We gave those terra-formers our word!
They knew what they were signing up for!
If I just had more time!
10 seconds to impact.
There is no more time.
This is your mission.
What do you want to do?
_
What do you want to do?
I want to call my dad!
Impact achieved.
Simulated fatality rate... 100%.
Simulated victims are as follows...
First Officer Adrita Anderson,
Age 9, Westlake Village, California;
Chaplain Father Albert Andrews, Age 10, Butte, Montana;
Embedded Journalist Amy Andrews,
Age 8, Hilton Head, South Carolina...
Why couldn't it have been me?
Why?
Those people had families, damn it!
Hey, Soph,
unstrap yourself and get down here.
We're gonna be late for "Cabaret" tryouts.
I should have been there.
I could have been there, by your side, like always.
No, you couldn't have.
It's a child-sized simulator.
And you shouldn't have.
You not being there for once
made me realize what an amazing dad you are,
and it made me realize
that I can do more on my own.
I liked your first realization better.
I decided then and there,
as those 981 names scrolled by,
that I wasn't gonna let another
single simulated child astronaut die on my watch,
and that, as much as I loved you
and as much as I missed you,
I was gonna prove to myself that I didn't need you.
So, for the next 12 weeks...
12 weeks?
There are 12 weeks after the activity you just described?
That wasn't, like, a final project?
That was orientation. Lance is all business.
But thanks to his controversial methods,
by the time the summer was almost over,
I had never felt more independent.
And you knew that once you were back at school,
I'd be there Room-Parent-ing my butt off.
Message received.
This year, my butt stays on.
Deal?
Now, I want you to tell me all about this independent summer,
you Outward Bound pamphlet come to life.
I can take it.
You sure?
Bring it.
I did Sprite.
That's independent.
Then traded my night-light for lip gloss.
So independent.
Which led to me tinkering with my bedtime...
So, then how did your body find a rhythm? I'm sorry.
That's all I can take right now. I'll show myself out.
I'm sorry I made you feel like
you had to hate things just because I do.
Th-That's unfair.
People should experience the joy
of getting to negativity on their own,
and if they never get there, great.
And if Miggy loves temping, good for him.
Yeah, I've never seen him happier.
He's here with your entire office.
I'm coming down there, right now,
and I'm going to be positive.
It's been a while, though.
Do people still say, "Boffo"?
Okay, do not come to my place of business and say, "Boffo."
And I am at least going to entertain the possibility
of a positive outcome with Derek,
which means letting him go.
If you can do it with Miggy, I can do it with Derek.
I mean, it's not the same thing, but what the hell.
See you soon.
"Need to discuss non-age-appropriate
mass-casualty flight simulation game
we paid good money for ASAP."
Will.
First of all, rock-solid e-mail.
Derek.
And then Graham was all,
"Rib! Rib! Vertebrae!"
What an amateur.
Act like you've been there before, dude.
So...
we've been thinking about this a lot.
And as much as we like
making fun of everybody for you...
It's more fun making fun of everybody with you.
So...
How did you get this?
- Don't ask. - Don't ask.
Oh, boy.
Okay, back to the kids' table.
Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com