American Housewife

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Aww. Thanks, guys.

"Happy 80th Birthday."

Anna-Kat, that's not my age.

Seemed like a reasonable guess.

And why is the tiger on the card attacking me?

So many notes.

Do you want the card or not?

And this is from me.

99 shares of CincoNext.

They're doing some really incredible things

in the biotech space.

Each share trades at a penny,

but over time, they could be worth millions.

Or nothing.

Or millions.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Aww.

It's a coupon for one clean room.

Hm.

I'm 9 years old. What's your excuse?

What? Dad's always riding me to clean my room, so now I will.

Actually, I love it, and I'm cashing it in now.

Go clean your room.

Damn. I was really banking on you losing the coupon.

Three kids with three gifts all coming in under $1.

So what? Where's your gift?

- Mom forgot! - No, I didn't!

I would never, ever forget my husband's birthday.

Okay, I did!

Now lash out at the kids to draw attention away from it.

It is your father's birthday,

and you're not even making him breakfast?!

- All right! Okay. - Okay.

Who raised you?!

Don't answer that!

I have your present, but I can't give it to you yet

because it's a surprise.

For tonight.

- I knew it. - Mm-hmm.

You're throwing me the birthday dinner party

you've always promised me!

Yeah, buddy! How'd you know?!

Finally, an adult dinner party.

- Nay... a salon, - Mm.

where we discuss art and wear scarves indoors!

I've been asking for years, and now we're doing it!

Now, only question left is...

which scarf should I wear?

The real question is,

which scarf should I hang myself with?

Guys, I messed up.

I forgot Greg's birthday.

Ohh! That's bad.

I did the same thing to Celeste,

and that pretty much led to our divorce.

Well, that and all the other women you slept with

who weren't your wife.

Hey, she knew I was an Aries when she married me.

Oh, my God, what a great defense.

- Did you use that in court? - I did.

But the judge was a Capricorn, so...

Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry.

No hablo cuckoo.

So, what's happening with Greg?

I lied to him about forgetting his birthday,

so now I have to throw him a dinner party.

Can you two make it?

Ah! Richard and I will be there.

Anything to get away from the kids.

"Mom! Play board games with us!"

I swear it's like they don't even know me.

I'm in, too.

Mind if I bring my new girlfriend?

Her name is Crissy, she's a therapist,

and I honestly think she could be the one.

Are you on Tinder right now?

Wh... I'm just browsing.

Oh, God.

Are you sure you didn't forget Dad's birthday?

'Cause this all seems very last-minute.

The caterers, which I ordered weeks ago,

canceled on me this morning.

Anyone not believe that? Huh?!

Anyone?

That's what I thought.

Now, tonight is an adult night,

so that means you are all going upstairs

and staying there till morning.

But what if there's an earthquake

or a rapture or an AI singularity?

You are only allowed to come down

if there's visible blood... active bleeding.

You got to fill this cup above the line.

All right! Everybody upstairs!

Remember to clean your room for Dad.

I was going to! God!

What is that thing where you've been asleep

and you wake up years later

and all of your kids are grown up

and you've lost all that time?

A coma?

A coma.

- I'm ready for my salon! - Great!

Because Doris and Angela are going to be here any second.

Doris and Angela? That's my salon?

Who am I gonna have intellectual debates with?

Angela is well-read.

She belongs to a lesbian book club.

She doesn't let me come

because she thinks I'm going to make fun of their haircuts.

But they know it's not a normal dinner party, right?

Because I'm reading a poem!

Hey, real quick... if Doris asks you

why we couldn't go to dinner last week,

it was because of your hernia surgery.

Got it? Great.

I didn't have a hernia. Why did you lie to Doris?

I can't tell her the truth.

Dinners at her house are the worst!

Richard is either on the phone or talking about his commute,

- and Doris hits on you the entire time. - No, she doesn't.

- - Why'd you have to go give me a hernia?

I don't know!

She sprang the invitation on me.

How am I supposed to keep up this lie?

Just don't mention it. And don't lift anything heavy.

This is so stupid.

You know I hate it when you put me in these situations.

How am I supposed to act like I have a hernia?

This'll help.

Hi!

Happy birthday, Greg!

- Hi, everyone! - Happy birthday!

- Hi. -

- Have we been here long enough? - Shut up!

Welcome! Let me take your coats.

- Oh! I'm so glad we could come. - Thank you.

Good.

Hernia!

I have a hernia.

His nether regions are still quite blown out.

Mm.

Okay, OCD girl, have at it.

Halloween, Christmas...

- this. -

Can I borrow your phone charger?

Sure, if you can find it.

This is disgusting.

My bib jersey!

I've been looking everywhere for that!

- Your what? - My bib jersey.

Whenever I eat something greasy in my room,

I put on a jersey to protect my clothes.

Genius, right?

I fear for your future.

Aah!

I can't believe I touched your bib jersey!

And there's nothing clean enough in here to wipe my hands on!

Don't worry... it's covered in so much old food,

there's no way you touched fabric.

You should be in prison.

Uh, guys?

The room is on fire.

Uh, Mom?

Visible... blood!

'Kay.

So, Richard, how are things?

So, Crissy, Angela tells me that you are a therapist.

How do you like it?

I think the better question is,

how do you like being a mother?

So, Richard, whatcha typing?

Nothing?

All right.

What are we going to do?

Mom and Dad are going to kill us!

Well, Dad's gonna lecture us,

and then Mom's gonna take the doors off all our rooms.

That'd be really bad for you, Oliver.

I have nothing to hide.

But, at the same time, we do need to cover this up,

and the only way we're gonna do that is if we stick together.

Like this slice of pizza attached to Taylor's math book?

That's why third period is so confusing!

- Oh. Your hand is so big. - Thanks.

I feel very safe right now.

- I'm so glad. -

- Doris, let's compare hands. - Oh!

Ow!

Knock it off!

Oh, God. Greg is going for one of his skinny poetry books.

Those are the worst kinds.

Who's in the mood for a sonnet?

- No. - Almost.

Changing subject.

So, Greg, you seem to be recovering nicely.

Recovering?

From the hernia surgery...

that you had.