Whoops.
Whoops.\nWhoops.
This is gonna be the best\nbirthday breakfast Mom ever had.
Hey, Lis.\nYou think that's enough for her?
- Maybe one more.
- I hope she likes\nthe presents we got her.\n- She'll like mine.
Who wouldn't like a bottle\nof real French perfume\nall the way from gay Paree?
Four bucks, plus tax.
I think she's going to like\nmy handmade birthday card better.
Oh, big deal. Dry macaroni,\nspray paint and glue. Whoopie.
Dibs. First dibs.\nI get to lick the beaters.
Ow! Ow! Ow! Litha, my "ongue"\nis "uck" in the "eaters." My "ongue"!
Happy birthday!
Huh? What?
- Here's your birthday breakfast.\n- Oh!
- Isn't this nice?
- My birthday? It's my birthday?\n- No!
What did I get?\nI love birthdays.
- No, Homer, it's mine.\n- You don't even know\nyour own wife's birthday?
Well, of course I know.\nSure.
You really thought\nI forgot, didn't you?
- Oh, right. What did you get her, Dad?\n- What did you get?
Uh, well,\na vey thoughtful gift.
But it's a surprise.
You know, it's such\na beautiful morning,
I think I'll take a little stroll\naround the block.
- I think he forgot, Mom.\n- Mm-hmm.
Oh, no. Come on.\nCome on. Open up!
Good morning, consumers.
The Springfield Mall is now open\nfor your spending needs.
Hmm? Uh... no.
Too salty.
Um... nah.
Hmm? Nah, too corny.
Too exciting.
Patty, he's out\nbuying me something right now.
Oh, Marge.\nHe never gets anything you want.\nHe always gets something for himself.
- The tackle box.\n- Remember when he got you\nthe tackle box?
- And Connie Chung.\n- And when he surprised you\nwith the Connie Chung calendar?
I'm sure he doesn't\ndo it deliberately.
Hmm. Hmm!
Well, Homer and I had a lovely\ndining experience at Chez Pierre.
Or the Rusty Barnacle\nis nice.
No, no, no.
We wanna take you someplace fun--\nThe Singing Sirloin.
The place where the waiters sing.
- Homer?\n- Be right there.
Homer, we're having dinner tonight\nat The Singing Sirloin.
That sounds delightful.\nJust you and me and the balladeers.
- And the kids.\n- Fair enough.
- And my sisters.\n- Doh!
How we danced\non the night we were wed
Havin' my baby
What a lovely way to say\nhow much you love me
Nearer my God to thee
- Nearer to thee
Oh, perfume!
Whoa! Hmm.\nThank you, Bart.
- You're welcome, Mom.\n- 34 years old.
Time enough to start over\nwith a new man.
- Someone who eats\nwith his mouth shut.\n- What's that, Patty?
Nothing.\nFinish your steak.
- Look at him wolfdown\nthat gristle.\n- Mm-hmm.
It's an accident waiting to happen.
Do you know\nthe Heimlich Maneuver?
- No.\n- Good.
I think she likes\nmy present better.
- Does not. Does not. Does not.\n- Does too. Does too.
Then how come she's not\nputting on any of your perfume?
Yeah.\nHey, Mom.
How come you're not putting on\nany of my perfume?
Mm.
Well, I'm saving it\nfor a special occasion.
What the hell are you talking about?\nThere's gallons of it!
- Bart!\n- But this occasion\nis already so special.
If we made it\nany more special,
we might end up\nmaking it less special.
- Gotcha. Told ya she liked mine better.\n- Oh, brother!
Hold on.\nHold on now.
Your mother hasn't opened\nmy present yet.
Happy birthday to you
Happy 34th birthday,\nMrs. Homer Simpson
Happy birthday to you
Oh. Don't worry.\nThis frosting will come right off.
Beauty, isn't she?
It's hard for me to judge\nsince I've never bowled in my life!
Well, if you don't want it,\nI know someone who does.
You always say we should talk.
I'm talking right now,\nas a matter of fact.
But I'm going to stop\nin a second,
so please, say something back,\nMarge, please?
I'm gonna stop talking...\nnow.
You bought that bowling ball\nfor you, not for me.
- What? No.\n- The holes were drilled\nfor your fingers.
I wanted to surprise you.
I couldn't very well chop your hand off\nand bring it to the store.
You never intended for me\nto use that ball.
If that's how you feel,\nI'll take it back.
You can't take it back.\nYou had your name engraved on it!
- So you'd know it was from me!\n- Homer,
I'm keeping the ball...\nfor myself!
What? But you don't\nknow how to bowl. Oops.
I'm keeping it,\nand I'm going to use it.
Thank you\nfor the present, Homer.
Well... you're...\nwelcome.
Excuse me.\nWhere do I throw this?
- Over there.\n- Thank you.
- You're gonna need a lane.\n- No, thanks.
- I'm here out of spite.\n- Can't bowl without a lane.
- Well, all right.\n- Here you go. You keep score on this.
- What size shoes do you wear?\n- Never you mind.
You can't wear\nstreet shoes on the lanes.
You gotta wear bowling shoes.\nWhat size, please?
- 13 double "A."\n- 13 double "A "?
This is the closest I've got.
A nine and a fifteen.
Thank you.\nHmm.
A little warm and moist.
Ugh!
Hmm.
So, 120 pins later,\nI am the better man.
I don't see what he's doing\nthat's so different from what I'm doing.
Hmm.
Oh!
I'm--\nI'm awfully sorry.
Entirely my fault.
It is nice\nto meet you,
Homer.
Oh, no, no.\nHomer's my... ball's name.
- I'm Marge.
Your fingers are so slender,\nso feminine.
They're far too tapered\nfor the ball you're using.
You need something lighter.\nMore delicate.
Here.\nUse my ball.
No. No, thank you,\nMr., um, Brunswick.
- Call me Jacques.\n-Jacques.
- Marge.\n- I'll just use my ball.
As you wish.
Many people have senseless\nattachments to heavy, clumsy things,
such as this Homer\nof yours.
- Hmm.\n- May I ask you a bold question?
- Sure.\n- You've never bowled before.
- Never. No.\n- No.
Then I will teach you.
- I don't wanna trouble you.\n- Not at all. I am a professional.
Roll the ball for me, Marge.\nLet me see your form.
All right. But I'm not vey good.
I can hit that one pin all right,\nbut the rest of them don't even wobble.
I can help you, Marge.\nPick up the ball.
Pick up Homer.\nPick him up.
Oh!
- Now throw. Throw, damn you.\n- But--
You're a very good teacher.
Yes, I am a very good teacher,\nand I can teach you everything.
I can tell you what the little arrows\non the wood floor mean,
which frame\nis the beer frame.
I bet you don't know how to make\na five-seven-ten split.
- Do you, Marge?\n- No.
But first of all, you yell,\n"The eight-pin is a cop."
- Let it out, Marge. Laugh loud.
Laugh out loud.\nYou'll lose weight.
- Oh, that's very funny.\n- Feels good.
I didn't realize there was\nso much to this game.
What do you charge\nfor lessons?
- Twenty-five dollars.\n- Twenty-five dollars!
It's a $40 value.
Well, all right.\nWhen do we start?
We have already begun.
Now this is living,\nhey, kids?
Hot pizza--\nthe food of kings.
Don't be scared, Dad.\nIt's not so hard takin' care of us.
Lisa, I'm not scared.
I think it's a great chance\nto spend some time with you kids.
Your mother always gets to be alone\nwith you, and now it's my turn.
Does the time\nalways drag like this?
First, you must get\nto know your lane.
Feel the slickness.\nFeel the satiny finish.
Caress it.\nExperience it.
- Quite smooth, isn't it, Marge?\n- Ooh, very smooth.
- Smooth? Yes?\n- Yes, vey. Yes.
- Yes. Smooth? Yes.\n- Smooth. Yes.
You could eat off of it.\nYou hungry?
- Yes.\n- Four onion rings!
Mmm. Delicioso!
- My compliments to the delivey boy.\n- We've eaten and eaten well.
What else do we have to do?\nLet's check the list your mom left us.
Eat. Mm-hmm.\nOh, clean up.
Don't worry, everybody. This will be\na breeze if we all pitch in.
All right!\nWe're clean!
Now we'll...\nput Maggie to bed.
Lullaby\nand good night
Go to bed\nand sleep tight
Close your eyes\nStart to yawn
Pleasant dreams\nuntil the dawn
- Homer. Homer?\n- Huh?
Oh, how was bowling?
It's a very\nchallenging hobby.
Sport, dear.\nIt's a sport, you silly thing.
Mm-hmm. Butl think I'll do\nmuch better tomorrow night.
You're going back?
Sure. If you don't mind\ntaking care of the kids again.
Uh, no.\nI don't mind.
Good night, Homer.
Good night.
- It is for you.\n- Oh, Jacques, it fits.
You got it in my size,\nand it has my name on it.
It's really for me.
Seventeen-fifty.\nEnjoy it, my darling.
Here we are.
- You didn't have to drop me off.\n- But I wanted to.
Marge, do you know how beautiful\nyou look in the moonlight?
Oh, Jacques.\nI'm a married woman.
I know. I know.
My mind says,"Stop,"\nbut my heart...
and my hips\ncy," Proceed."
- Marge, darling,\nI want to see you tomorrow.
Not at Barney's Bowlarama. Away from\nthe thunderous folly of clattering pins.
- Meet me tomorrow for brunch.\n- What's brunch?
You'll love it. It's not quite\nbreakfast, it's not quite lunch,
but it comes with a slice of\ncantaloupee at the end.
You don't get completely what you would\nat breakfast, but you get a good meal.
- I don't think so.\n- Marge, darling,
there are ten pins\nin my heart.
You've knocked over eight.
Won't you please\npick up that spare?
Mm. Mm.\nAll right!
- Marge?\n- What, Homer?
Nothing.
-Uh-oh. Schoolbus.
Here you go, kids.\nSpecial lunches.
Lots of good things\nfor growing bodies...
and some treats\njust for fun.
- Ay, caramba!\n- Are you going bowling\nagain tonight, Mom?
Well, yes, I am,\nas a matter of fact.
Here's more treats.\nYour dad will take care of dinner.
Mmm, Wednesday.\nHoagie night.
Good-bye, Lisa.\nMy darling little Lisa.
Good-bye, Bart.\nMy special little guy.
Mmm!\nGreat lunches, eh, Lis?
Oh, Bart, don't you see? This is what\npsychologists call overcompensation.
Mom is wracked with guilt\nbecause her marriage is failing.
Hey, don't\nrock the boat, man.
Whatever it is,\nwe're making out like bandits.
Bart, I read about\nwhat happens to kids...
whose parents no longer love\nand cherish each other.
They go through\neight separate stages.
Right now,\nI'm in stage three, fear.
You're in stage two,\ndenial.
- No, I'm not.\n- Yes, you are.
- I'm not. I'm not. Am not!\n- I stand corrected.
- Mimosa?\n- I'm a married women.\nDon't call me that.
No, no, no, no, no.
Mimosa is the name\nof the drink.
It's orangejuice\nand champagne.
You're so wonderful that you thought\nit was something offensive.
Oh, well, thank you.
Marge? Marge Simpson.
You remember me, don't you?\nI'm Helen Lovejoy,
- the gossipy wife of the minister.\n- Hello, Helen.
I had just finished eating\nand was about to leave...
when I looked over this way\nand said to myself,
"Isn't that Marge Simpson having brunch\nwith a man who isn't her husband?"
And I just had to come over\nand say hello.
- We're, um--\n- Oh, don't squirm on my account.
I am giving her\na bowling lesson, thank you.
Now, Marge, the pins on the\nthree-seven-ten split would be here.
We'll make this little piece\nof food the ball.
The ball's bigger.\nBut for food, this is a good ball.
Oh, well, bye-bye.
- See you in church on Sunday, Marge.\n- Good-bye, Helen.
Good-bye, Helen.
You have\na lovely friend there.
- Let's hope something runs over her.
Your laughter\nis like music to me.
But if you laugh\nat what I say next, I will die,
for I am about to say\nsomething very serious,
perhaps shocking.
Marge, my darling, I want you\nto meet with me again,
- That doesn't shock me.\n- away from pying eyes,
away from the Helens\nof the world,
at my apartment--\nthe Fiesta Terrace.
I've been waiting for you.\nCome in, my captivating one.
May I have this dance?
Sure.
Whoa!
You certainly have a lot\nof bowling trophies.
I like you so much.
They're not for bowling,\nMarge.
You're so naive.\nThey are for lovemaking.
- Really?\n- Yes.
Oh!
- Champagne?\n- Please.
There, my darling.
- Thank you.
What cosmic force\nbrought us together, Marge?
- Destiny?\n- Yes.
Some divine pinspotter...
must have placed us\nside by side.
Like two fragile\nbowling pins--
Standing bravely--
- Until inevitably--\n- We must topple.
Marge, speak to me.
- Is Thursday okay?\n- It's okay, indeed.
" For Marge"?
Hey, Dad. What do you say\nwe toss the ol' apple around?
Son, I don't know ifl can lift\nmy head, let alone a ball.
Aw, come on, Dad.\nGet the lead out.
Simpson checks the runner on first.\nHe's cool. He's fine.
Here's the windup,\nand here's the pitch.
Dad, you didn't\neven say "ouch."
Oh, sorry.\nOuch.
Lisa. Lisa, I think\nyou're right about Dad.
- Something's very, very wrong here.\n- Frightened, Bart?
Welcome to stage three,\nfear.
We gotta do something, man.
Sorry, Bart.\nI'd love to help you,
but I'm mired\nin stage five, self-pity.
Look, Dad. I don't know\nwhat's going on,
but once you gave me\nsome advice that might help.
I gave you advice?\nGet out of here.
Yeah, you did. You told me\nwhen something's bothering you...
and you're too damn stupid\nto know what to do,
just keep\nyour fool mouth shut.
At least that way,\nyou won't make things worse.
Hmm. Good advice.
Marge,\nmay I speak to you?
- Sure.\n- You know, I've been thinking.
Eveyone makes peanut butter\nand jelly sandwiches,
but usually the jelly\ndrips out over the side...
and the guy's\nhands get all sticky.
But your jelly stays right in the middle\nwhere it's supposed to.
I don't know how you do it.
Youjust got a gift, I guess.\nI've always thought so.
I just never mentioned it,\nbut it's time you knew how I feel.
I don't believe\nin keeping feelings bottled up.
Good-bye, my wife.
- Good-bye, Homer.
To the most beautiful\nmoment in life.
Better than the deed,\nbetter than the memory--
the moment\nof anticipation.
Oh, Jacques, you handsome devil.\nLook at you.
You're really going\nto strike out tonight!
- Ain't you hungry, Homer?\n- Starving.
Well, then why aren't\nyou eating your sandwich?
How can I eat it? She made it.\nIt's all I have left.
Domestic situation.
Uh, huh?
Marge!\nWhat a lovely surprise.
You're here to see me,\nright?
Of course!
Hey, way to go, Homer.\nWay to go!
What will I tell\nthe boss?
Tell him I'm going to the backseat\nof my car with the woman I love,
and I won't be back\nfor ten minutes.