Dad, I got to do my homework...
Will you ask Robbie to
practice someplace else?
Uh, Robbie, would you
practice someplace else, please?
Hey, Dad, I am someplace else.
Ask Chip to do his
homework in the kitchen.
Uh, Chip, would you do your
homework in the kitchen, please?
I was doing my homework
before he started playing
that clunky old trumpet.
Ask Bub.
Bub, would you, uh...?
No, don't ask Bub.
Bub nearly blew his stack
because he darn near sewed
this shirt button to
his clunky old thumb.
Ask Tramp, then.
Uh, Tramp, would you...?
Hey, w-would you cut that out?
I-I've read this
thing four times now.
Jeepers, I got to
write a composition,
and I haven't even
written the first word yet.
Yeah, well, I got to practice
for orchestra practice.
That sounds like rehearsing
for a rehearsal for a benefit.
Eh.
What this place needs
is a phone that walks
across the room,
jumps up in your lap and
says, "Answer me, please."
Hello?
If this is Alice, Robbie's
gone to the library.
And if it's Ruth,
he's on his way...
Oh... excuse me.
Hey, Robbie?
Yeah?
It's a new one. Oh.
Who is it? It's Bonnie.
Oh. Hi, Bonnie.
Uh, pages 68 to 70.
Yeah, all the
inverted fractions.
That's okay.
Bye. That was Bonnie Mortenson.
She's trying to get up enough
nerve to ask me to a dance,
and so she pretends she
forgot her homework assignment.
Well, now, that's a nice,
modest appraisal of the situation.
Why don't you melt that down
into a napkin ring or something!
Robbie, I think you've
practiced enough.
Why don't you put the
trumpet to bed for the night?
Okay, Dad.
Dad?
Mm-hmm?
Can you tell me something?
Well, I don't know.
What is it, Chip?
What was my mother like?
Well, I've told you, Chip, but,
uh, maybe you've forgotten.
It was quite a while ago.
Uh... wh-what makes
you ask right now?
Well, you know Mrs.
Bergen, my teacher? Yeah.
She gave me a
homework assignment
to write a composition called:
"What My Mother Means to Me."
And I've been thinking
about it all night,
and I don't know what to write.
Well, maybe Mrs.
Bergen would let you write
about something else, Chip.
Boy, you don't know Mrs. Bergen.
When she gives you a
homework assignment,
you better do it, and
don't ask questions.
Well, I-I think if she knew
you didn't have a mother, Chip,
she'd, uh, she'd have given
you another assignment.
Would you like me to call
her at school tomorrow?
Heck, no, do you
want all the fellas
to think I'm a skunky
kid or something?
A skunky kid?
Yeah. That's a kid who lets
his parents talk to the teacher.
Oh, I see.
Well, Chip, you had
a wonderful mother,
and she loved us all very much.
I can remember so many
things she used to do that...
I really think you ought to
talk to Mrs. Bergen, Chip.
Uh, maybe she'd
even let you pick
something you'd
like to write about.
But right now, I think, uh,
maybe you'd better
scoot up to bed, huh?
It's your bedtime.
Boy, I better think of
something by next week,
or else I'll get my name on the
board for being a duty shirker.
A duty shirker? Yeah. If
you get three duty shirkers,
you get sent to the
principal's office,
and he tells you how
disturbed you're making him.
Good night, Chip.
Good night, Dad.
Come on, Tramp.
Hey. Aren't you
supposed to be in bed?
What was she like?
Oh, she was the greatest.
It's been a long time...
I've forgotten a lot.
Uh... why, Chip?
I don't know.
I was just wondering.
Oh.
She sure was pretty.
What color was her hair?
Well, I... guess
you'd say it's sort of
halfway between yours and mine.
Come in.
Oh, hi, Mike.
Uh, can I talk to you for a
second? Sure. Come on in.
Uh... I'm afraid
we've got a problem.
Oh, huh?
Yeah, I'm kind of
worried about Chip.
Tonight he asked me all
kinds of questions about Mom.
Oh.
It seems he's got a
composition to write.
Yeah, I know.
I suggested that
he ask Mrs. Bergen
if he couldn't write
about something else.
I even offered to call
her, but he wouldn't let me.
Well, he couldn't... he'd
be a dirty rat if he did.
No, no, they've changed that.
This year he'd
be a "skunky kid."
Well, what did you,
uh, finally tell him?
About Mom, I mean.
Well, I, uh, I told him
to work it out for himself.
Oh, Dad, you didn't!
Yeah, I'm afraid I did.
Well, Dad, don't
you know that you...
psychologically, you've
got to give children answers.
You... you probably
led Chip down
some dark canyon of frustration.
Well, Tramp's
probably with him, so...
I don't imagine he'll get lost.
Dad, I'm serious.
I was just making a joke.
You know, Mike, books
are great for learning,
but they can't always
solve all our problems for us.
I have enough faith in you
and Rob to know that you can
probably work most
things out for yourselves.
And I think maybe
Chip's old enough now
to do the same thing.
Well... I think you're wrong,
but, uh, if you
do foul up on this,
you know, I'd be glad to
help you in any way I can.
Thanks, Mike.
Good night, Dad. Good night.
How long would it take a
man to eat three bananas
if he ate one and
a half every day?
Boy, he sure eats slow.
I can eat one and a half
bananas in ten seconds.
You could not. Betcha I could.
I'll show you.
Go ahead and time me. Okay.
Hello?
Oh, hi, Bonnie.
Ten seconds are almost up.
Uh, let's see... oh, page
32, conjugate all the verbs.
That's okay. So long.
Hasn't she got up nerve enough
to ask you to the dance yet?
Uh-uh. It won't do
her any good anyway.
I'm going with Betty Jane Metz.
Well, that's mighty nice of
you to give somebody a break.
Chip! Get those bananas
out of your mouth.
You look like a chipmunk.
Hey, I just thought
of something.
Hmm?
We can't do any more arithmetic,
'cause you just
ate up the problem.
Did you write your
composition yet?
Uh-uh. I don't
know what to write.
Besides, I haven't got a mother.
You can borrow mine if
you want to. No kidding?
But you got to give me
something pretty good
if you want me to lend
you a whole mother.
What do you want?
How about your lizard?
Why don't you boys
go up to Sudsy's room?
Oh, this is okay, Mrs. Pfeiffer.
Haven't we been
here long enough?
Uh-uh. If she doesn't do
something pretty quick,
I want my lizard back.
She could take a
bath or something,
but it's too close
to dinnertime.
What are you boys talking about?
Chip's got to write
a composition.
Oh?
What's in the box, Sudsy?
My new lizard.
New lizard?!
You get that horrible
beast out of my kitchen.
Jeepers, Mom! You
heard what I said.
Hubert Blakesly
Pfeiffer, get it out of here!
And go and practice your piano.
Aw, golly, Mom.
I am not going to pay
three dollars a week
for piano lessons so
you can stare at a lizard.
Now, do as I say, before
I really lose my temper.
Sudsy has to practice now, Chip.
Yeah, I know.
How come you make
him play the piano?
Because I think
it's best for him.
Yeah, but he hates it.
That's really no
affair of yours, Chip.
Is that all you do is fix dinner
and wash dishes
and clean up junk?
That's all any mother
does, really, Chip.
Sudsy'll be at least a
half an hour at the piano.
Yeah. Well, I better
go get my lizard back.
Oh, so it was your lizard.
Yeah. He traded you for him.
That's fine.
What did you say, Chip?
Well, see, I got to
write this composition
called "What My
Mother Means to Me,"
and I don't have a
mother, so I borrowed you.
You borrowed me?
Yeah. I thought it'd be okay
if I borrowed you
to write about.
Well, I'd better
go get my lizard.
You'll do no such thing.
Sudsy! How can you sit
in there playing a piano
when you have a guest?
I'll call your house and tell
them you're staying for dinner.
What happened?
I don't know.
Oh, Sudsy, I told
you the next time
you left your bike
in the driveway
that you couldn't
ride it for a week.
You're lucky I
didn't run over it.
Aw, gee, Dad, I just forgot.
It wasn't his fault, honey.
He started to move it, but
I asked him to empty the trash.
What are you talking about?
You clobbered him
for leaving his bike
in the driveway last week.
You mustn't exaggerate
in front of Sudsy's guest.
Oh, it's okay, Mrs. Pfeiffer.
I don't care.
Ow!
What's happened now?
I cut my finger.
The way you were
cutting that meat,
I'm surprised you
didn't cut your hand off.
Let me see it, sweetheart. Oh, for
heaven's sakes, Ruth, it's nothing.
Our Sudsy cuts his finger,
and you say it's nothing!
Come, Sudsy, dear.
Let Mother take you out
and put a little antiseptic on it.
What's going on around here?
If that's Alice,
Robbie's at the library.
And if it's Ruthie...
Yeah, I know the whole routine.
Hello?
Oh, hello, Bonnie.
Well, I'll get him for you.
Robbie?
Now, there is a perfect example
of a girl who wants something
because she can't have it.
It's the old "grass is
greener" philosophy.
Thank you, Sigmund.
Why don't you give
that girl a break?
What I can I do?
I'm all booked up.
Oh... Greetings, greetings.
Welcome home, young man.
Hi. Hi. Hiya, Tiger.
Hiya, Chipper. Hi, squirt.
Let's do the oral exercises...
Well, how was the
dinner? Real neat.
Hey, Dad, you know what? What?
We had dessert first,
and it sure makes
the rest of the
stuff taste better.
Hey. What happened
to these pants?
Oh, I stopped to
shinny up a tree
in front of Sudsy's house.
I guess I shinnied down
faster than I shinnied up.
I just patched those
pants last week.
Hey, pull the pants leg up...
let's take a look at the knee.
Eh... There, you
skinned it a little.
You better go up
and wash it, Chip,
and put a little
antiseptic on it.
Isn't anybody gonna help me?
Aw, don't be a baby, Chip.
Oh, maybe we should
hire a trained nurse.
I think you're old
enough to do it yourself.
It sure would be
neat to have a mother!
There, you see?
I tell you, Dad, we
have a problem.
Yeah.
I wish you had a
mother, too, Chip.
But you don't.
I know you think things are
kind of rough around here
once in a while,
but most of the time
they're not too bad, are they?
When Sudsy's
father yells at him,
his mother always
sticks up for him.
Around here,
nobody's on my side.
Oh, we're all on
your side, Chip.
No, you're not.
And I'll just bet you that
when Sudsy does
something really wrong,
his mother doesn't
always stick up for him.
I didn't do anything wrong,
but you all yelled at me.
I didn't mean to tear my pants.
We know you didn't mean to.
And look, Chip, even a
mother sometimes gets angry
with her children,
but that doesn't mean
she doesn't love them.
Yeah.
Mrs. Pfeiffer did get
pretty sore about the lizard.
Oh, well, you see?
It's only Shirt-tail Mary with
some raiment for his highness.
Now, Chipper, I
think things will look
a little brighter
in the morning.
Yeah, I guess so.
I think I better try
a few more mothers
before I start writing.
Good night, Chipper.
How come you just flop on
the bed with your shoes on?
I don't know.
Lying there with your
feet all over the spread.
You don't know, huh?
Well, if you'll slip into your
pajamas and wash your hands and
brush your teeth and
get into bed in about
two and a half minutes,
I'll tell you a story
about how I wiped out
a whole Indian band,
all by myself.
Oh, boy, tuna.
My mother ran
out of potato chips
so she gave me
corn flakes instead.
Bub makes the best tuna
sandwiches in the whole world.
Anybody want to trade me
a peanut butter
for a real neat tuna?
Uh-uh. I hate tuna, too.
I'll trade you, Chip.
What do you got? Ham.
Okay.
Want to borrow my
mother again today, Chip?
He can't.
He's gonna borrow mine.
My mother says
you can't borrow her
'cause she doesn't want
to be in two compositions.
You can borrow my mother, Chip.
She's neat.
Okay.
Somebody want an
apple for something?
Me. I got some real neat
corn flakes you can have.
Boy, Sudsy, you must think I
got a creepy brain or something.
Ooh, they got me.
Yes.
Good-bye, Beulah dear.
Mm-hmm.
Hi, Mom.
Hello, children. Mrs. Barker.
Oh, Diane, honey, I got
so tired out this morning
at the beauty parlor
that I didn't have
a chance to make the beds.
Would you run up
and do that for Mother, dear?
But first, would you
wash the breakfast dishes
and set the table for dinner?
And, Chip,
while Diane is busy,
why don't you grab
that carpet sweeper over there
and run it up and down
the hall a few times?
And darling, when you're
through with the beds,
bring Mother her purse.
The traffic was so heavy
on the way home this morning
that I didn't stop
at the market.
And I thought you
and Chip could pick up
some frozen TV
dinners for tonight, okay?
Okay.
That's a good girl.
I think I've borrowed
her long enough, Diane.
I'll see you later.
Gee, you got a lot of toys.
Yeah.
My mom bought them for me.
Weren't you sick or something?
No.
She brings me stuff
like this all the time.
Want to play trains?
Sure.
Hey, that's neat.
You want to run it?
Okay.
Where's your mom?
This is her day
for playing bridge.
She won't get
home till after dinner.
You mean you have to eat alone?
Yeah, but she leaves
junk for me to heat up.
Where's your dad?
He travels all the time
'cause he has to sell stuff.
Can I come over tomorrow
and see your mom?
No, 'cause that's
her day for golf.
I got enough track to go
clear out to the garage.
That's swell, Freddy.
How about the next day?
No, because then she
goes to the beach club.
Oh.
I got the neatest mom
in the whole world.
Yeah, Freddy, you sure have.
Hey, Rob, how do
you spell "spinach"?
Spinach... S-P-I-N-I-C-H.
I think.
Heck, I had it wrong.
I had S-P-I-N-A-C-H.
What are you writing?
My composition.
What composition?
The one about what
my mother means to me.
I borrowed a whole bunch of
mothers, but they're all clunky.
Hey, Chip, watch how I can
make my bicep muscle jump.
Yeah. Rob?
Yeah?
If we still had our mother,
you think she'd spank us?
Well, sure, if we
got out of line.
That's what mothers are for.
What else are they for?
Oh, I don't know.
All kind of junk.
Do they tuck you in and
make you say your prayers
and tell you stories and stuff?
Yeah, I suppose so.
You know, Chip, you
shouldn't sit around so much.
You're gonna turn into a
ten-year-old ball of flab.
I guess they're always
kissing their kids, huh?
Who?
Mothers.
Yeah, I suppose so.
I don't remember
too much about it.
This is a good exercise
for your leg muscles.
Do they let you have dogs?
Huh?
Some of them do and
some of them don't.
Hey, what are you doing,
writing down everything I tell you?
Some of it.
I'm leaving out the junk
about your muscles, though.
Well, how can you write a
composition about mothers
when you don't even have one?
Well, it isn't easy.
Robbie, don't start phoning
now. We have to be at the school
in 20 minutes. Come on. Right,
Dad, I got to get somebody to go
to the dance with... Betty Jane
Metz just conked out on me.
Well, you can
work on that later.
You haven't even
got your shoes on.
Well, what's so important about
going to a PTA
meeting for Chip's class?
We've already settled that.
Now, here are your
shoes and the shoehorn.
Now get them on. But, gee, Dad,
why do I have to go
to all of his meetings
when it was bad enough
going to all of mine?
What are you moaning about?
I had to go to all mine,
all yours and all Chip's.
Well, if you want to look
at it that way, I had to go to
all mine, all yours, all
Robbie's and all Chip's.
You guys are pikers.
They voted me a life membership.
What's so special
about this one?
Mrs. Bergen sent a note
home saying the Douglas family
has a surprise in store for it,
so we're all going
to be there. Settled?
Settled. Settled?
Oh, settled. Settled?
I'm one of the early
settlers. All right.
Thanks.
I got it! Hello.
Oh, hi, Bonnie.
Oh, listen, I can't talk to
you right now 'cause, uh,
we got to go to this PTA thing,
and Chip's gonna meet us there
at school, and-and
it's a whole big deal...
Why don't you ask
her to the dance,
long as you been stood up?
Oh, uh, Bonnie, I
was just thinking.
Um, do you suppose you could go
to the dance with
me next Friday?
Well, who is he?
Would you fix his collar?
Okay, but it's up to you.
Get his coat on. Yeah.
So long. That's enough, Rob.
She's not calling just
for the assignments.
She probably doesn't know
anybody else
that isn't a toll call.
Oh, boy, how funny can you get?
Let's go, let's go.
And that concludes the
business part of our PTA meeting.
May I express my thanks that
so many mothers and fathers
turned out tonight.
And now it's my pleasure
to introduce to you
one of our school's
most popular teachers,
who has a surprise for
you, Mrs. Rhoda Bergen.
Thank you.
Good evening,
ladies and gentleman.
I recently gave my classes
an assignment to
write a composition on
"What My Mother Means To Me."
Now, this was not in
the nature of a contest,
but one of the compositions
touched me so deeply
that I'd like to share
the experience with you.
Chip Douglas, would you
come up on stage, please?
I've been teaching
children for many years.
And as most of you may know,
I'm now teaching
the fourth grade,
where Chip is spending
so many, um, happy hours.
Right, Chip?
Mrs. Bergen, I think I'm
gonna be sick to my stomach.
You'll be all right, Chip.
Chip, would you read
your composition entitled
"What My Mother Means To Me."
"What My Mother Means To Me"
by Chip Douglas.
"Lots of mothers cook fancy.
"They put creamy stuff on
spinach so you can't taste it.
"Mine doesn't do that.
"When we have spinach,
we sure have spinach.
"If we don't like the food,
my mother gives the table
"a big smack and says, 'If
it's good enough for the Navy,
it's good enough for you.'
"My mother yells at us
sometimes, but it's okay,
"because my mother also
makes lots of things fun.
"Once in a while,
"we get to have pillow fights
and my mother pretends
"not to notice us unless
we bust one of the pillows.
"My mother lets us have a
dog right in the house with us,
"even though sometimes
he's a lot of trouble,
"on account of he has long hair.
"I also get to have lizards
"and turtles and
all kinds of things,
"'cause my mother
isn't afraid of bugs.
"When it's time to go to bed, my
mother makes me say my prayer
"and tucks me in and tells
me stories about Indians.
"Also, I think I've got the
only mother on our block
"who can throw a
football 40 yards.
"My mother never goes
"to beauty parlors, on account
of my mother's bald-headed.
"We have a happy home
"because we have
a real neat mother.
"I mean my grandfather,
Mr. Bub O'Casey."
Dad, I don't think we
have any trouble anymore.
Well, I think maybe
we have a little.
Well, it was quite an
evening, wasn't it, Bub?
Mm, good.
Say, confidentially, uh, can
you throw a football 40 yards?
Well, just to keep
the record straight, no.
Well, hi, Chip.
What are you two eating?
That great big fat
ounce of ice cream
you kids saved for
us after the PTA brawl.
Yeah, and I don't think
you should have any more.
And why aren't you asleep?
The hall light's on.
Don't you know how
to turn a switch off?
Oh, well, come on, come on.
Good night, Dad.
Good night, Chip.
Oh, Chip... I'm
very proud of you.
Thanks, Dad.
Good night.
Good night.