Cougar Town

Okay, what do you think I should get Travis

for his graduation gift--

the robot vacuum, uh, electric bike,

or a one-person hovercraft?

Definitely not a robot vacuum.

Those things really creep me out.

I need my vacuums to have soul.

He doesn't graduate for four months.

I thought you agreed to cut back on your early shopping?

Okay, fine.

Then I'll just make some returns,

and you'll never know what you were getting

for Christmas 2015.

A spray tan package!

Oh, hey, why don't you get him this massage chair?

"Perfect for those times you wanna be touched,

but you're all alone."

You can have them deliver it right to his room upstairs,

where he'll be for the next ten years.

Why would Travis be living here after graduation?

'Cause he's graduating from art school.

Oh, come on, Ellie.

Now we all know that Trav is ambitious, independent,

and has a fantastic work ethic.

Why are we laughing?

_

Hey, I was just talking about you.

So graduation's in a couple months, huh?

Yeah. Guess that's right.

In the eight or nine years it'll take you

to find a way to make money with an art degree,

what do you see yourself doing?

Lotta irons in the fire.

Can't wait to, uh, dive in,

get my hands dirty, really hit the ground running.

I gotta go to class. Later.

Bye, babe.

Well, it sounds like Travis has got a lot going on.

Those are just empty buzzwords.

I do that at work

when I can't think of anything to say.

"You need to prioritize,"

"Refocus your capital," "Really attack the market."

Should I be attacking the market?

Yeah, go ahead.

I don't mind dating a guy who plays with action figures,

I just don't think I should have to pay for them.

Dude needs a J-O-B.

I should go.

We are trying to get Stan into Gulfhaven Academy.

The woman from admissions is coming by the house.

That place is crazy competitive.

They barely accept anyone.

Like me, but a school.

Why didn't you tell me?

You know I need at least an hour to tie a Windsor knot.

You're not invited.

You know you get all weepy talking about Stan's future,

and then you make a huge ass of yourself.

I'm cool with Stan getting older...

going to school...

becoming a man.

Okay. All right, that's all yours, Jules. Enjoy.

Just let it out.

It's like yesterday he was a baby!

Laurie, where's Jules?

Whoa, are you okay?

You didn't even call me a name.

There's no time, trample-stiltskin.

Okay, there's a little time. Where is she?

She's showing a house.

- Aren't you supposed to be at your interview? - My nanny is sick.

If I don't have someone watching Stan,

he might put Thousand Island dressing

in my shampoo bottle again.

Honey, I'll watch him.

I used to take care of my 15 foster sibs.

Well, Stan is a major handful.

Bitch, please.

One of my brothers thought he was a pit bull.

I used to fill a dog toy with peanut butter

to keep him from biting. I think I got this.

Okay, but only because I'm totally screwed.

Come on, hooba-skank!

Hey! I'm doing you a favor.

I'm sorry, it's reflex.

Thank you so much for helping.

Slut-bag.

Bobby, we need to talk.

Uh-oh. I know that voice.

Either something's going on with Travis,

or your Aunt Gracie died again.

I asked Travis what he wants to do

after graduation,

and he said he has a lot of irons in the fire.

Sounds like our boy means business.

No, he doesn't.

I know he wants to be a photographer,

but that could take a really long time.

What's he gonna do for money until then?

Pretty soon, Trav will be on his own...

out in the world.

Okay, you're gonna have to go, dude.

You're kicking me out, too?!

Damn it.

I don't want Travis to be one of those kids

that finishes school, and just sits around

doing nothing, waiting for his dream job.

What are we gonna do?

You hold him so close he never grows up.

- Dude. - I'll stop.

We have to sit Travis down, and we have to make sure

that he has a plan.

I'm in. (Clears throat)

Hello?

Hmm? Oh, you meant now. Oh, come on. Yep, got it.

Looks like you're dealing with something.

So I'm just gonna leave you with that and...

Ellie kicked me out of the house,

and I don't know what to do with myself.

Are you kidding?

In my first marriage,

my friends and I would rage when our wives were busy.

Me and a buddy once

broke into Gloria Estefan's house

and took a picture with her grammy.

Not the award--

her grandmother was house-sitting.

I don't know.

I might just put on my cozy pants

and get an oil change.

Tell you what-- Jules is with Travis,

so I'm gonna help you out.

We're gonna do anything you want.

Something crazy, you name it. Bro day!

Do we have to call it "Bro day"?

Well, I used to call it "Dudes on the down low,"

but turns out, that means something else.

Stan's test scores are great.

But we're looking for kids from families

that are a little more... diverse.

Well, Stan's half-Cuban.

This is Florida, Mrs. Torres.

I dare you to throw a rock and not hit a Cuban.

Figuratively.

Sorry, sorry to interrupt.

I just need to grab Stan's books.

Unfortunately, we only have a few spots left.

And we hope to fill those with a child from say,

a low-income bracket or single-parent home,

or perhaps an alternative family.

So...

Excuse me.

Oh, baby girl.

You know I can't resist you when you wear this sweater.

Oh, I didn't realize that you were...

Yes, big-time.

Big-time.

So this graduating thing is exciting.

And I know you have a lot of irons in the fire.

Yeah, you gotta cast a wide net,

bait the hook, see what bites.

Mover and shaker, this guy.

Oh, sorry.

We both support your photography,

but that could take years.

So what are you planning to do in the meantime?

A ton-- cooking up an animated web series,

may kickstart an app.

And if my blog gets linked to Huffpo,

sky's the limit.

All I heard was "Po," "Kick," and "App."

So let me ask you another way--

um, how are you gonna support yourself?

Probably just move back here until one of my ideas pops.

Oh! And I thought of an idea for a reality show

about old firehouses.

My friend's cousin lives next to a producer.

So... fingers crossed.

Yep, we raised a deadbeat.

Trav has no interest in a real job.

You know, when I was 20, I-I worked at a car wash.

I mean, I only quit because all the old men were yelling,

"Put 'em on the glass!"

When we met, I was selling shoes

at an Irish pub.

I would steal them off the drunk guys

and sell them back to 'em at the end of the night.

Yeah, when you told me that, there was no way

I wasn't marrying you.

Hey, maybe Trav can use a metal detector

and collect coins at the beach.

Now, well, how do you buy a metal detector

when you have no money?

I'm out of ideas.

Yeah, I think Travis needs a job

that's more... a job.

The manager at Coffee Bucks loves me.

He lets me pay for coffee in hugs.

I bet he'd give Travis a job interview.