This week, in an attempt to get the family back on some sort of secure financial footing, Nancy went on her first real job interview in years. It was awkward and awkward job interviews are the worst. Have you ever been on an interview and you just KNOW, maybe halfway through the meeting, that you’re simply not going to get the job? Maybe you bombed that old classic: “What’s your greatest weakness and your greatest strength?” (I’m convinced that there is no “right” answer.) Maybe you forgot the name of the software your old job used and when the potential new job asked about it, all your brain could supply was white noise. (Guilty as charged.) Or MAYBE you were the subject of intense media coverage after a sniper tried to take your head off and the interviewer never had any intention of hiring you, he just wanted to see if there was a dent in your head. I call that one the Nancy Botwin.
However, a (legal) door finally opened for Nancy when she spied a dad not-so-subtly passing off some drugs at one of Stevie’s soccer games. She schmoozed over to give the guy, Terry, some pointers, and learned that he didn’t have to be particularly stealthy—he was the head of a pharmaceutical company and his drugs were legal. How convenient. He agreed to pull some strings and possibly get Nancy a job if she agreed to babysit his demon spawn, Kyle, for a night. Word around Old Sandwich was that babysitting Kyle was a punishment reserved for the deepest circles of Hell.
It was a well-deserved reputation. In college, I worked at a kiddie amusement park and we saw a lot of kids like Kyle. Sometimes, their awfulness inspired me to rise to the occasion, wielding my whistle like the Lord of the Flies conch and reveling in my “mean lady” title. But sometimes, when I had already scrubbed poo out of the cargo net, fished two dead chipmunks out of the pool, and the ball pit smelled like vomit and I couldn’t figure out why, sometimes I took the Nancy approach and pawned the little devils off on someone else. I had my doubts about Nancy’s decision to leave bratty Kyle with psycho Shane. It would either be the best babysitting decision ever or the worst.
Final verdict? The BEST. The entire “Occupy Hallway” scene, complete with silly string “pepper spray” and Shane’s "Coming to a YouTube near you video" was easily the highlight of the episode for me. Even more so than Silas Botwin: The Amazing Fully-Clothed Stripper.
The Weeds homage to Magic Mike came as a direct result of Silas tracking down RJ, who was back on meds and really sorry about that whole blow-me-or-I’ll-steal-your-pot-plants thing. Apology accepted, Silas just wanted his weed back. Unfortunately, RJ had stashed the plants at his parents’ house and he was still on lockdown at the psych ward. Silas’s attempted burglary interrupted a surprise birthday party and resulted in the worst striptease ever. Sorry, kids. I was disappointed too. And in the end, Silas went home without the weed.
But, in a turn of events that was probably a little jarring for the Botwin kids, it was mom Nancy to the rescue. Terry was delighted that she didn’t try to murder his kid or anything and managed to get not only her, but Silas as well, jobs at his company... working on a new synthetic marijuana drug because of course.
It all felt a little too good to be true. I’m just going to sit here and wait for one of them to screw it up. Who do you think it will be? Silas or Nancy?
– Jill on children: “Boys are little shits. Girls wait until they’re older to get piercings and STDs and call their mom a bag of....” Yeah, that’s accurate.
– I was really feeling the Bomb the Music Industry! cover of “Little Boxes.”