In what is perhaps the most horrifying opening scene of TV since... last week's American Idol, Adam goes toe to toe with a possum. He takes the intrusions of this creature personally, though possums are the least of his problems. His daughter admits that she purchased pot and Max is diagnosed as having Aspergers. He and Kristina gird up their loins and decide to have hope for Max's future.
Crosby is handling the revelation that he has a five-year-old child with the maturity of a four-year-old child. He hangs out with Jabar and makes very little effort to get to know him. He'll supposedly have more opportunities, though, since Jasmine and Jabar have moved back to town.
Sarah successfully lands a job at an awesome design firm, and then has it unfairly ripped away. The good news is, she's able to translate her own misfortune into understanding for Amber, especially after she finds out that Amber was telling the truth about the police incident from last week. When Amber's school wants to hold her back a grade because of her bad transcripts, Sarah goes to bat for her.
Julia must face her insecurities when some skinny tramp from Sydney's school starts macking on her man. She embarrasses herself pretty thoroughly by publicly casting aspersions on the tramp's stay-at-home-mom status.
In short, it's been a rough day for the Bravermans. So, who can blame them when they light up Haddie's weed in the elementary school parking lot?
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.
Sarah's doing a school drop-off, too, with Amber and Drew. It's going even worse. The little trio stands nervously on the sidewalk while Sarah tries her damndest to give them a pep talk. "This is so great," she says. "It's gonna be all brand new and different and..." Amber: "What are you doing?" Sarah: "It was something I was trying. No?" The teenagers shake their heads and walk towards the school. Sarah gives it one more shot. "You can be the best," she calls to their embarrassed backs. "I believe in you! Just... be... you!" Heeee. It's a very sweet try, but even she recognizes the lameness.
Max is also on his way to school. Again, he's wearing the pirate costume. "We had a deal," his father says, following him at a run to the car. "The pirate costume at home, but we wear regular clothes to school." Max jumps in the car and flatly states that well, he changed his mind. "Mom said!" he adds, causing Adam's high-strung pitch to go up one more notch. "He can't keep going to school like that! Kids are gonna think he's a freak," he says. "How's he gonna make any friends? I knew kids like that when I was in school -- once you're a freak, you're always a freak." This storyline upsets me so much, I don't even have words. I don't want it to be, but I have to admit it's almost too accurate. I simultaneously wish I could stab and hug Adam. Kristina obvs feels the same -- she knows, she says, how he feels. "I deal with this every day," she says, listing all the bribery attempts she has made over the pirate costume, including food bribes, presents and, scarily, buying the bugs with which Max is obsessed. Adam apologizes. "I just want to get him out of that thing," he says, and is about to leave when Kristina reminds him that they have an evening scheduled that night with the Lessings. You may recall the Lessings from last week's freak-out when Adam namedropped them in reference to autism referencing "the Lessing's kid, with the hand-flapping." That was one of the moments when I wanted to stab. He says fine, they'll go see the Lessings and talk about Asperger's with them, but he hopes they don't have to have dinner. "Remember that time we went over there and they'd made dinner?" he asks, beginning to spiral. "They didn't pre-heat the oven until we'd been over there like three-and-a-half hours! It was unconscionable! I felt like I was being held captive!" Kristina nods and talks him down, telling him to say goodbye to Max, which he does. With a kiss, he says goodbye to her as well, adding that hey, they don't even know for sure that Max even has Asperger's. Kristina says she knows that. "He's not the Lessing kid," Adam adds, hand-flapping for emphasis. STAB. Kristina looks sad.
Back at the pancake joint, Crosby is chatting with Jasmine as Jabar plays innocently with an airplane, probably silently fantasizing how he can fly away and not have to accept this douche as his dad. "It's been a while, Crosby," Jasmine says, and Crosby, douche or not, is right to point out that yeah, it's been five years and nine months a-while. He "casually" wonders aloud how Jasmine is so sure Jabar is his child. She takes it in stride, though I know she wants to stab. Y'all, I can recognize the need for stabbing in a woman's eyes at 50 paces. Anyway, she says, she's sure. "Really?" he says. "You didn't... have relations... with any other guys?" Classy. Fighting the urge, she says no, Jabar is Crosby's. The poor woman. I don't know why, when realizing she was pregnant, she did not move three continents away from Crosby and change her name and appearance just to be on the safe side, but for whatever reason she really wants her son to develop a relationship with his father. Which should be much easier now, because -- news flash -- she and Jabar have just moved back to town. Crosby is surprised, an emotion that registers on his face exactly like all the other emotions, with a raise of his slacker eyebrows and an expression like he's just detected a vaguely unsavory odor. Lord knows Jasmine has handled this in the wrongest way possible, but she does remind Crosby that she called him many times over the years, to no avail. He has no response to this. Jasmine suggests that maybe he would like to get together with Jabar over the weekend. "You mean the weekend, the one coming up this weekend?" Crosby stutters. "That sounds really good but, uh, I'm actually going out of town this weekend." Jasmine reacts like it's a rejection, but frankly, you came out of nowhere, lady, and though he's a jackass, he has plans. Plus, you have just moved back, so presumably there will be other weekends? But, no, we can feel the guilt hanging there as we cut to...