Adam is disturbed by late-night bumping. Not the good kind -- the kind that indicates a rodent is making a targeted strike on your property and sanity. In his underwear, he creeps through the darkness of his yard, up a ladder and shines a light in the attic crawlspace where he is confronted by a hissing possum. He screams, I scream, he leaps off the ladder and flails in the bushes with a tennis racket. As a homeowner doing frequent battles with squirrels of all sizes, I salute him.

Later in the morning, Crosby faces off against a much cuter little critter. He has taken his newly-revealed son, Jabar, out for pancakes. "So, your mom said you wanted to know about your old man," Crosby says to the biggest pair of brown eyes in the world. This child has Crosby's number. No amount of jokes from Crosby can win a smile. "Let's start with you," Crosby says. "You married?" Jabar, who is five, reports that no, he is not married. Crosby says that if the kid is having troubs meeting the ladies, it could be because of his car. "What kind of car do you drive?" Jabar remains silent. "Well, you have your license, right?" Crosby asks. Jabar: "...license?" Crosby sighs. These, he says, are his only kid jokes. "I'm out of material." Now, I like teasing a child as much as the next guy, but come on. This is supposedly your son. Throw in a Batman question or two. Maybe something about kindergarten and farting dogs. Crosby sees Jasmine out the window and gives her an inauthentic thumbs-up. "This is fun, though," he says with no trace of fun to Jabar. "So, you like pancakes?" Finally, a good question! Except unfortunately, he asked it too late. Because despite the presence of whipped cream AND sprinkles, Jabar likes waffles better. I'm with you, Jabar.

At elementary school drop-off, Julia is trying to have one experience with her daughter that could not be handled better by her husband. She's already being impatient and snappy when she is cut off in the carpool line by another mother, who whips in, unloads her daughter and takes her sweet, rude time getting all the kid's accoutrements for class. "No, that's okay!" Julia yells (to herself). "Take all the time you want! I only have a meeting with a Supreme Court judge!" This might have been the day to let Daddy do the drop off, then. Finally, after dropping the F-bomb ("Fudge, honey! I said 'fudge!'") in front of Sydney, she gives the interloper a fairly polite honk to hurry her up, only to be met with a dismissive "one second" finger. Julia returns the gesture with... a different finger.