As the credits roll, I wonder why the entrance to the girls' room looks like a closet. And how much does Eric make as a minister, anyway, that he has such a closet-filled house and a stay-at-home wife? He must serve at one of those ritzy churches where the cops show up every Sunday to direct traffic so the richie Christians can file out onto the main street and make all the heathens wait longer to get to the boat ramp. No wonder I dislike him. It's hot and my kids want to swim! Why don't you people stick to going to church on Christmas and Easter like everyone else? Sheesh.

I want a password journal for Christmas so I can say "Girls rule!" into it and it can open and I can put in a piece of paper that says, "My husband is a bitch!" and no one will know.

A perky guitar plays Simon through his school's front lawn as he jovially interacts with several fellow students and works their nerves. He meets a Ms. Jasper on the steps and brown-noses her half to death as he hands in his paper. It turns out that he only has an 89 in her class and wants extra credit. She tells him he can help the "visual arts guys" work on some "holiday mural" after school. I'm not totally sure, but I'm pretty sure that Ms. Jasper is the newly-blonde Beulah Balbricker of the movie Porky's. I wonder if Simon's school has girls' showers with very thin, hole-filled walls.

At Roosevelt School, Ruthie is showing her art teacher the lump of clay that was a nose before she stepped on it. Haw. And hey, weird. I went to Roosevelt Elementary, too! But we didn't huff there. I think a few kids smoked pot, but that was it. Ruthie's art teacher flakily talks about "the muse" while acting like Ruthie's little cue-card comments are precocious.

Mary runs up to Lucy at her locker and says she has something to tell her. Lucy doesn't want to know. C'mon, Lucy! Mary has to share this with someone! She apparently has no friends, so let her share it with you! Lucy in her '80s-looking black-and-gray high-collared blouse says she'll listen if the something is really nothing, but that if it's SOMETHING, she doesn't want to hear about it. "Okay, fine," says Mary, who takes off as the guitar plays its "oh, these sweetly funny youths" riff.