(laurie) bye, shnookums. (singsongy) land on your bottom! (door closes) man!just like you're over-mothering trav. you shouldn't let him just mope around up in his room forever. let's put together a list of ideas. (clears throat) dang it. i hate that you never have a pen around. that's why i didn't write you that note when your aunt or doctor called about that happy or sad thing. this is my fault. i should have written a note by the phone that says, "bobby do not answer my phone." oh. i was wrong. here it is. we could take trav to the mini golf course that just reopened. it's not a crime scene anymore. they found the head. windmill? lighthouse. we could take him to a strip club. i'm in. dad. sweetie, your mom is dead, plus there's boobs everywhere. all right, no one is taking my son anywhere, okay? i mean, not to the site of the putt-putt murders and definitely not to a nudie bar. fine, got it. okay. and, dad, tonight when i'm saying my prayers, i'm telling mom what you said. oh, please don't do that. it's too late. your mom had the most beautiful boobs. she re