Original subtitles

What's going on in your lives today?

Tell me everything.

And don't skip the juicy parts.

There better not be juicy parts.

- I'm friends with a fawn. - A what?

My baby deer...

I told you about her this morning, remember?

You kept saying, "Uh-huh, honey. Uh-huh, honey."

Uh-huh, honey.

Oliver, Taylor, what is going on in your lives?

- Zero. - Nada.

All right, dummies, put your phones down and keep them down.

You know I can do a choke hold from the driver's seat.

Hi, guys!

What is going on in your lives?

- Same old. - Nothing.

It can't be "same old" if you've never told me anything to begin with.

They used to tell me about everything,

but just when they started growing hair in weird places, they clammed up.

Somebody tell me something about anything!

- Deer are good swimmers. - Oh, I didn't mean you, baby.

You tell Mama everything...

even wiping details nobody needs to know about.

Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com

I need to know what's going on in their lives,

otherwise I'll wake up one day,

and my kid is the crystal meth king of Westport.

Oh, like Susie Penta's kid.

What? Susan Penta's kid was selling crystal meth?

That actually happens here? I was just saying stuff.

Oh, I'd love it if my kid became a meth dealer...

do anything besides play "Minecraft."

Get off the couch, go outside, and sell meth.

It's a beautiful day.

Look, if you want to know what your kids are up to,

start running their texts through your phone.

- You both read your kids' texts? - Absolutely.

Reading them right now, and my kids are having

a cribbage tournament and want to know

who's bringing the Mountain Dew.

Nerds.

Yeah, I'm raising nerds.

Put that app on my phone. Make it so, sensei.

That wasn't an Asian thing. That was a "teach me" thing.

If I would have bowed like this,

it would have been an Asian thing.

I just made it an Asian thing.

So, kids, how was your day?

I named my deer Bambi, then thought, "I can do better."

Excellent share.

Moving on. Oliver?

- Ehh. - Not an answer.

Now I'm gonna get specific. Let's talk Alice McCarthy.

- What? - Yeah.

What's the latest on you and her?

There's no latest. There's no nothing.

Should we invite her over for dinner sometime?

Are you crazy?!

I'm trying to help you out.

You're the kind of guy who needs to hang around a lot,

wear girls down, and then when they're at their weakest, pounce.

It works.

"Ooh, Alice, let me hold your hand with my gross, sweaty hand."

It's not my fault.

I inherited Dad's hyperactive glands.

We run hot and wet.

You know what really could seal the deal with you and Alice?

Ice-cream date, back seat of the minivan...

I'm up front setting you up for jokes to make you look good.

I'm having a physical reaction to this scenario.

You're gonna give me hives.

Hives are on your mom. I'm about sweat and eczema.

- So, Taylor... - Huh?

Why did Sophie tell Natalie that you're acting like Madison?

- How do you know that? - You told me.

No, I didn't. I don't tell you anything.

Oh, my God. I knew this would happen.

She's getting our texts on her phone.

Your mother would never violate your privacy like that.

Oh, but I would.

Of course she would.

I can't be an involved parent if they don't involve me.

I am your mother.

I'm gonna be all up in your stuff

so I can share my wisdom and keep you both on the straight and narrow.

That's not fair!

What's not fair is that your brains aren't fully formed until you're 21,

and you're my responsibility until then.

Nobody told me that when I got into this.

- Hey, Dad. - Hey.

I can trust you with a secret, right?

I mean, you being the cool parent and all.

Yeah. I didn't realize... Yeah.

Okay, well, I've been taking cotillion classes.

So you're learning good manners and etiquette covertly.

It's a weird secret.

I'm using it strictly for networking purposes.

Your oldest friends are the ones that lie to the S.E.C. for you.

My friends and I used to ride bikes, skip stones.

One time, we threw a watermelon off a roof...

made a big mess.

Cute. So here's the deal...

There's a formal dance that's part of it,

and I'm going to need a tux.

That's really more of your mom's department.

Well, it's going to have to be yours.

- I'd rather not involve Mom. - Why?

If dinner wasn't enough, need I remind you about the caf? incident?

Oliver, there's Alice McCarthy.

She's so cute! Go say hi.

Mom, no.

Let's send her a cake pop to get her attention.

Ooh, she's looking.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

- Not good. - No.

All she needs is to find out parents can come to cotillion.

It's gonna be flying cake pops for everyone.

I just need someone who gets it on a guy level.

- I'm a guy. I get it. - I know.

So you won't tell her about any of this, right?

Your mom and I don't keep secrets from each other... not anymore.

See this scar here?

This was a surprise party for her that went awry.

Okay.

I just thought this could have been

a defining bonding moment between us,

one we could look back on and laugh about

when we're sharing a beer after my college graduation,

you and me, two guys, elbows on the bar.

I do want that.

- But keeping a secret from your mom... - Come on.

Just between us... bros.

Sounds good, bro.

Hey, honey.

She hasn't sent a single text to her friends all day.

Taylor's gone dark on me, Greg...

"Zero Dark Thirty."

Is that what that movie was about?

- I didn't see it. - It's no big deal.

I haven't texted anybody in weeks.

Because your thumbs are the size of Nebraska.

And you have to put on your reading glasses

every time somebody sends you an emoticon.

They're really tiny, cruelly so.

If I can't read her texts,

then I've got to find another way in.

Katie, you're stalking our kids like you're hunting a wild animal.

Now, me, I view raising children a little more like fishing.

You wait quietly in the boat and let them come to you.

What kind of nonsense parenting podcasts

- have you been listening to? - Hey, my technique gets results.

In fact, "hanging back" is how I got Oliver

to beg to spend the day with me after school.

Oliver begged to hang out with you?

Hell yeah.

Why?

I guess he wants some father-son time, you know,

to really let my experience juices soak in.

Mm-hmm. And what are the two of you going to do?

- Hang. - Where?

- Around. - Specifically?

Batting cages.

Do I have something in my teeth?

Nope. Sweaty lip.

It's your tell.

Mnh-mnh. You're hiding something.

Spill it.

I promised Oliver I wouldn't.

It's just between us bros.

Fine.

Don't be hurt. Are you really hurt?

What do you want from me?

You're putting bros before hos.

- It's not that big of a deal. - But I need to mother, Greg.

Without being a mother, I am just a woman

who put on 40 pounds for no reason.

Fine.

He's been taking these cotillion classes, and there's a formal dance.

And he needs a tux, and he wants me to help him and not tell you.

Why?

Is he afraid that I'm too involved in his life,

that I'm going to embarrass him?

Your words. And his.

Well, too bad!

I am going to go up there, and I am going to tell him...

No, no, no. You're not gonna say anything.

If he finds out that I betrayed his trust,

he'll never come to either of us

with a problem again.

We don't want him going to the lonely baseball coach.

Fine! He's yours.

I'm gonna go handle the girls. At least they smell good.

Yeah, puberty's hitting Oliver hard.

- Gross. - Yeah.

So Oliver doesn't want me in his life.

Does it hurt? Sure.

But that's why I spent nine months creating a backup.

What's going on in that head, lovey?

Let Mama in.

I'm just waiting for my deer.

Come sit with me.

Thank you. It's good to be wanted.

Mama, did you know, in Connecticut,

there are over 100,000 whitetail deer

and that a mother deer will leave a young fawn

- in the days after it's born? - I thought I could do it.

Can't do it.

And yet, it manages to survive and eat on its...

Okay, Taylor, you're up.

So, how's it going?

Fine, Mom, but I could use a little privacy.

No problem.

We can have a little privacy together.

I really don't feel like talking.

I know you don't, but I'm gonna need you to,

or I'm gonna start texting as you.

And it's gonna be all about your rash.

It's on your butt.

Why is this happening?

Because you cut me out of your texts.

- I'm not cutting you out. - Your phone says otherwise.

No one's texting me, okay?

How come?

'Cause out of the blue,

Sophie decided not to talk to me,

so, of course, now all of the other girls are going along with it, too.

God! Teenage girls suck.

We're the worst.

How about next time I see Sophie's Mom...

Do not do that.

You'll ruin my life more than it already is.

You don't even know what I was going to say.

Watch.

"Hey, Sophie's Mom"...

I really don't have anything beyond that.

I kind of think best on my feet, but you get the tone.

Mom, please, no.

I don't want you to fix anything.

Then why did you tell me if you didn't want me to fix it?

- Because you forced me to. - How about I say...

Nope.

Well, then, you know what?

I'm gonna go bond hard with Anna-Kat.

Oh. Hi, Mama.

I'm leaving raisins for my deer.

You know, deer's favorite food is grapes.

Still can't do it.

- Hey, Dad. - Wait for it... big finish.

Pretty rad.

Listen... We can skip the tux shop.

I've been thinking about it

and realized the dance is gonna be totally lame.

But I thought it was part of the cotillion class.

It's not like we're graded on it.

It's voluntary.

Yeah, but you seemed so excited about it.

Well, I thought it would be cool if you and I hung out instead.

You, me? On a Friday night?

Just two dudes.

Well, what are we dudes doing tomorrow night?

The question is, Dad,

"What aren't we going to do tomorrow night?"

That is wildly non-specific. I'm in for all of it.

Hey, boys.

Better not have ruined your appetite

during your hangout this afternoon.

Seems like this energy might be more of a "you" problem.

I don't know what you're making for dinner, but it's gonna be flat.

Did you enjoy your tux shopping?

Actually, we didn't go tux shopping.

- Why? - He's blowing off the dance.

- Why? - Says it's gonna be lame.

- Why? - I don't know.

He thought it would be more fun to hang out with me.

Well, that's a lie.

- Jealous. - Think about it, Greg.

Two days ago, it was a big enough deal

that he couldn't tell his mother.

What changed?

I didn't ask.

You didn't ask.

What's so wrong about a 12-year-old boy wanting

to do a little air-drumming with his pops on a Friday night?

Honey, listen to yourself.

- He called me "bro." - Oh, Greg.

I got played, didn't I?

Yeah.

We need the truth about why he doesn't want

to go to the dance, and you know how we're gonna find it?

Not by having the fish come to us.

No, we're gonna toss a stick of dynamite in the water

and let the answers float to the surface.

Come on.

Why aren't you going to your top-secret fancy dance?

You ratted me out. Not cool, man.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, stay with me.

- Why are you guys in here? - You lied to me.

I didn't lie.

I might have withheld a few facts.

A lie of omission is the worst kind of lie.

Actually, I think the worst kind of lie is

an outright lie that lands an innocent man in prison.

- What are you doing? - I...

You asked your father to lie to me for you,

and you're taking "how to behave like a rich jerk" classes behind my back.

- They're etiquette lessons. - Oh, I'm sorry.

Should I be yelling at you with my pinky up?

Give me answers.

Why aren't you going to that dance?

Like I told Dad, it's gonna be lame.

Mm, is that the story you're sticking to?

Sorry, buddy.

You have it, too... the "Otto tell."

When we betray others,

- our bodies betray us. - Mmhmm.

Spill it.

Now.

Okay, I don't want to go anymore

'cause I got partnered with someone

- I don't want to dance with. - Who?

Some girl.

I want a name.

Kimmie Wu.

- Kimmie Wu "Size Twenty-Two"? - Yes.

You got stuck with a fat girl

and not one of Westport's skinny future trophy wives,

so you're backing out?

Wow, Oliver. Really?

You know, as the son of a larger lady,

I would think that you would be sensitive

being partnered with Kimmie Wu "Size Twenty-Two."

You'd think, as a larger lady,

you'd stop calling her Kimmie Wu "Size Twenty-Two."

Are those manners classes teaching you to talk back

to your Mom at a really stupid moment?

Oliver, you are going to that cotillion dance,

and your mother and I are going, too.

And we're going to make sure that you dance with that girl

because your father and I are raising high-quality,

non-sucky human beings.

Human beings.

I got your back.

Two corsages... One for Oliver's big, beautiful date,

- and one for yours. - Oh, I shouldn't have.

Have fun tonight.

Don't worry, honey. Everything will work itself out.

Your Dad's right.

I know nobody texted you today, but they will.

You're still reading my texts?

Oh, I'm so sorry if I gave you the impression

that I was going to respect your privacy.

That was wrong of me.

Look at you... so handsome.

We may not be raising them right,

but we certainly make beautiful babies.

Can we just get this over with?

Do all your pouting in the car because when we get there

you are going to smile, you are going to have fun,

and you're going to dance like nobody's watching...

or exactly how they instructed you to.

Call if you need anything.

Sophie's mom is a part of that whole cotillion crowd,

so if you see her please do not say anything.

All my attention's off you and on your brother.

He pissed me off just a little bit more than you today.

Thanks, Oliver.

Ohhh. I get it now.

This is where they train to become them.

- All right! - Ohh!

There's your girl.

Here's your corsage.

Now, where's that smile?

Maybe no smile.

A little advice... Big girls don't like it

when you rest your hands on their midsection.

Limit contact to just shoulders and other bony joints.

Love stinks

Love stinks

- Yeah, yeah

- Love stinks

Love stinks

- Yeah, yeah

- Love stinks

Oliver, honey?

Dad, I need to use the bathroom.

Alice McCarthy's here with another boy.

Ohh, poor Oliver.

He probably hoped that they'd get partnered together.

And now he has to watch her dance with that hot guy.

He's 14 years old, Katie.

Well, don't make it weird, Greg.

- Should we go talk to him? - What?

No.

I don't even know what I would say to him.

- I meant our son. - Oh.

No.

I think you should.

I'd really love to dig my paws into this one,

but I think it calls for a gentler touch.

- I'm on it. - Okay.

Hey.

Hey.

Is everything all right in here?

So, I saw Alice.

Yeah?

Is that why the dance was gonna be so lame?

Whatever. I don't care.

Okay.

I feel like an idiot.

All last week, Alice's friends kept coming up to me like,

"Alice is gonna ask you to be her partner at cotillion."

Then, stupid Kurt Brockwell comes back from having mono,

and she asks him.

And I get thrown in the leftover pool with Kimmie Wu.

- Can we just go home now? - No.

Look, this cotillion class was about learning grace

- and manners, right? - Yeah.

You go out there, and you show some.

I promise you when you look back at this moment,

you're not gonna wish you'd hidden in the bathroom longer

or gone home early.

You'll remember you acted like a man

and you did the right thing.

And when we go for a beer at your graduation,

we'll talk about this defining moment.

I'm sorry I lied to you.

Now let's get out there before Kurt Brockwell is your stepdad.

Look at our boy. Look at what we did.

Eat your heart out, Alice McCarthy.

No way her bony ass can break it down like Kimmie Wu do.

It's impossible not to rhyme.

There's Sophie's Mom.

You got to fix things for one kid tonight.

I'm gonna go fix things for the other.

Didn't Taylor explicitly say not to?

Greg, we can't listen to our children.

They're children.

Hi, Sophie's mom.

I'm Taylor's mom.

Seems like our girls aren't getting along very well these days.

- Girls this age, right? - Mm-hmm, yeah.

But in this case, it's more your girl.

You have a problem with my girl?

I have a problem with the problem your girl has with my girl.

Well, maybe you should mind your own business

and let them work it out for themselves.

And now I have a problem with you.

You're about to be a part of something called making a scene.

- Hey, how was the dance? - Humiliating, then fun,

then, thanks to Mom, humiliating again.

Things definitely took a weird turn.

Mom slapped a drink out of Sophie's mom's hand.

Your mom pushed the boundaries of proper etiquette.

I'm sorry, honey. It did not go well.

It turns out after, "Hi, Sophie's mom,"

I didn't have much of a plan.

Oh, I know.

Sophie and I have been going back and forth about it all night.

There's video. You guys might go viral.

You and Sophie are talking again?

We totally bonded over our mothers being lunatics.

- Why aren't I getting those texts? - We were talking on the phone.

Can you record those conversations

and send them to me?

I'm just kidding. I'll record them.

Oh.

- Oliver just got a text from Alice. - Hm.

"Top hat, smiley face, sweaty hands"?

- That's "clapping." - Cruelly tiny.

What does it mean?

It means she thought he looked good in his tux

and that he's a nice guy,

and the clapping is applause for his dancing.

It means that he has a shot

against the most handsome man in the world.

Child, Katie... He's a child.

You're making it weird again.

So if one of the kids comes to one of us with a secret,

we won't keep it from each other.

No, we'll betray our children

but hide our deception from them.

We're in uncharted territory... the teenage years.

We need to monitor their texts and read their e-mails.

And rifle through their drawers. Don't forget about the rifling.

Drawers, bags, pockets.

I'll go to school and bust a locker.

Our kids don't think they need us, but they do.

That's why we've got to know what's going on in their lives at all times.

Nothing happens under this roof without us knowing.

Ugh!

I should pay more attention to that kid.

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