Nine Months

---

All right.

Toast time.

All right.

Um, this is,

amazingly enough, to us.

Five incredible,

incredible years.

Cheers.

Come here.

Brendan, we're leaving

in five minutes, sweetie.

Samuel.

Yeah?

Do you want more?

No, thanks.

No. I've had lots.

No. Not lunch.

I mean

more for us.

By which you mean

the big "M"...

Marriage, huh?

Well... yeah.

Um, I'm over 30,

and I feel like

something's missing.

O.K. Well,

you know, what?

What could possibly

be missing?

Let's look at that,

because, you know,

we live in

a fantastic apartment.

My practice

is really good.

We get on better

than most married couples.

Sure.

Life is dangerously close

to perfection actually,

so, uh, why would you

want to change things?

Why change

what's perfect?

Yeah?

Right.

O.K.

Uh, new toast.

To stability.

Honey!

Oh, God!

Shit, honey.

I hit a guy. Come on!

Are you all right?

Excuse me, ma'am.

I know CPR.

Aah...

O.K.

You're conscious! I thought

you were French kissing.

I was trying to scream.

Don't get up.

He's all right.

It's under control,

madam. Thank you.

Does your head hurt?

Yes.

Are you nauseated?

Very.

Open your eyes!

Wide! Wide!

Aah!

Your pupils

aren't dilated.

You're O.K.

I brought you back!

He's O.K. Let him up.

All right.

Whoa. Sorry, buddy.

No. Careful.

No lawsuit.

Good. No lawsuit.

Yeah. Marty Dwyer.

Yeah.

Samuel Faulkner.

How you doing?

Good to meet you.

A big wind

came along and bam!

Cracked you

on the noggin,

but I guess

you know that.

Kids, stop that!

Your manners.

There's plenty.

Help yourselves.

This sucks.

It tastes like poo!

Oh, bloody hell.

What did I say about spitting

in people's food?

Oh, please.

Here, eat this.

Eat that, honey.

You know, I know you.

I don't think so.

You're Sean's friend,

the kiddie, you know,

shrink.

Yes. I'm a psychotherapist.

Like some help

with your children?

I met you last year

at Sean's loft.

I'm his sister Gail.

Oh, hi.

I'm Rebecca.

Nice to see you again.

Look, I'm sorry.

That's beluga.

It's $64 an ounce.

It's not dog food.

I'll write you a check.

No, it's fine.

It's just...

O.K.

Kids,

say thank you to the man

for the nice cheese

and give him

a big hug!

Thank you!

Pleasure.

Kids, break it up.

We got stuff to do.

Have a little bit.

Just a bit.

No. Come on.

Come on, Sprinkler.

Let's go.

Hope we didn't ruin

your picnic.

No. Why would you

think that?

Take it easy.

See you around.

Bye.

You see... breeders,

perfect example

of the product of change.

The swelling's

gone down.

It's still quite painful, actually.

You know,

all I'm saying

is there should be

two areas on the beach,

one for adults

and one for children.

Then everyone's happy.

Is that any better?

Yeah.

That's much better.

You're

too tense.

You need to

loosen up.

Come on.

I love you.

I adore you.

Oh, yeah.

My dad's an asshole.

O.K.

Good.

Interesting.

Um, is that

something

you can maybe

elaborate on

a little bit

for me, Truman?

O.K.

Great.

My dad's

a giant asshole!

Yeah.

O.K. When you

bring your arms up,

round like this,

O.K., Eleanor?

Round. Round.

There you go.

Yeah. O.K.

Like this,

Miss Rebecca?

Look. Look at that.

I don't know

about Truman.

I'll get him

to open up,

but he's got very

severe problems,

and we know who

to thank, don't we?

Huh?

You know,

his parents.

The state

requires you

to take a written test

to drive a car,

but any moron

can become a parent

and just destroy

a child's life.

It's like people

have babies on a whim.

Surely, to be a parent

you have to plan ahead.

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