Hi, Trashiis! I think we’ve reached peak boring with this show. We are about to spend about one-third of this episode reminiscing about a sofa. Anyway, on to the recap!
We open on Kimmy Gibbler, sleeping on the couch. She looks to the side and her ex-husband, Rico Suave, is right next to her. She screams and tells him to go away. So I guess they fucked after the birthday party? Rico wants them to admit to everyone that they are back together, but Kimmy says they aren’t actually back together. Rico says he’s going to jump out the window, you know, from the attic, and that Kimmy shouldn’t worry, because he’s done it before. I’m sure this won’t have a Bran Stark outcome at all. Although it would definitely make the show more interesting to see Rico Suave carried around by a giant football player for the rest of the show.
How many times do I have to tell you, no butt stuff!
Downstairs, the kids run to the living room to find the puppy tearing up the sofa, which seems to be made of construction paper. Max says he’s going to fix it with crayons and tape. Jackson tells him he has to lie and decides to coach him up. Max hesitates for a second but gives up his moral compass pretty quickly. He throws some strips of fabric in the baby’s playpen. DJ walks in, while the dog is still chewing away at the sofa stuffing, and asks Max what happened. Max blames Tommy (the baby) and shows her the strips of fabric. DJ clearly doesn’t believe him, but makes some vague threats about lying coming back to haunt him, instead of, I don’t know, punishing him on the spot.
Why even pretend not to see it?
Kimmy joins the rest of the family in the kitchen for breakfast and sees Rico Suave’s legs dangling outside. She does that sitcom thing where there’s something happening in the background, and one of the characters nervously talks until the coast is clear, which is super grating when the nervous talking is coming from Kimmy Gibbler. She says something about not having shaved her legs, then Rico falls down noisily and walks away. He comes back in, ready to pick Ramona up, not noticing that he is covered in leaves. He also starts nervously talking. He hands Jackson a lost Frisbee from the roof. Ramona and her father argue about where he’s taking her. She says she’s too old to go to the places he normally takes her.
Is he rappelling down or just jumping?
The doorbell rings, and DJ and Stephanie run over to grab it. It’s Danny. I guess he’s next in the recycled characters rotation. I can’t wait for those classic Saget jokes. The audience goes bananas, baffling me. Stephanie questions why he rang the doorbell, and he says he was cleaning it. Right? Because he likes cleaning, and that’s his only distinguishing characteristic. Kimmy thanks him for not barging into her home. Zinger. Danny says he’s excited for his Wake Up, San Francisco reunion show. This is bullshit, because literally nobody is that attached to a morning talk show. People are inexplicably drawn to this shitcom, but I draw the line at lame morning talk shows. Kimmy continues to be lame, making the meta joke for the episode about how it’s sad when they drag out the old cast for a reunion. At least they didn’t look directly into the camera. By the way, Danny says he’s a beloved cultural icon. He gives $5 to each of the boys, and then Stephanie puts her hand out for some. Get a job, Stephanie!
Even the baby agrees with me.
They move into the living room, and Danny immediately notices the blanket Max put on the sofa to cover up the rip. DJ tries to stop him, but he takes the blanket off and discovers the giant rip. DJ says it was the puppy, but they are having the sofa reupholstered. Are you trying to tell me that this is the same sofa he’s had for 40 fucking years? And it still looks exactly the same? WTF?! Danny gets sad about it, and the girls try to comfort him. Kimmy makes some joke about the sofa that’s really all about her getting back together with Rico Suave.
Bob Saget’s actual reaction to a fucking sofa being his main plotline.
We are now in Max’s room, and he has all of the diverse kid actors the show could afford. He tries to show off how good the puppy is at tricks, which is to say not good at all. One of the kids totally calls him on his shit, and says his dog knows how to fetch his dad a beer. Double burn, calling his dog shitty and making fun of Max for his dead dad. Max retorts that the kid’s dad sounds like a “boozer.” The kid brags that his dad is a pilot, and Max says his dad was a fireman. They start trying to one-up each other, while the other kid actors go, “WhooOOOooo.” The kid challenges Max to bring a firetruck to his birthday party the next day, and Max says he will and it will make this kid’s bouncy house look pathetic. Kids sure argue differently than they did in my day. What happened to “I’m rubber and you’re glue,” and “not” jokes?
Unimpressed by Max’s shenanigans.
Meanwhile, Danny is sitting on the sofa, taking selfies with it. Stephanie walks in, and he begs her for another picture. Danny and Stephanie start reminiscing on the sofa, and I am dying. He says he waited for her to return home from dates on it every single time. Stephanie starts telling him about her teenage escapades, but Danny doesn’t want to hear it.
Danny Tanner: serial Instagrammer.
DJ comes downstairs, announcing to her dad that she will be working late with Matt, doing inventory. Inventory of what, the puppies? I love how DJ’s job has both crazy hours that require her to have two babysitters on call at all times, but is flexible enough for her to literally stop her kids from doing stupid shit. Danny wants to know who the hell this Matt guy is, since DJ obviously has a ladyboner for him. DJ asks him how he knew he was ready to date after his wife died. Oh shit, I forgot that DJ’s mom had died before the show. They couldn’t think of another way to make DJ a single mom? Anyway, Danny’s not super helpful. He says he just kinda knew when it was the right time, and tells her to make a pros and cons list. Then he says if it feels right, she should go for it. DJ should have just bought some Hallmark cards instead.