Home Sweet Homediddly-Dum-Doodily
Here's your toast, Maggie.
I Melba-fied it myself.
Oh, Lisa. Honey, I tracked down those old newspapers for your history project.
- You didn't have to go to the trouble. - It was no trouble.
The hobos at the dump were very helpful.
Except one man who seemed to have mental problems.
- Good morning. - Bart, it's class-photo day.
No Dracula fangs.
- But they told us to wear them. - No, they didn't.
And don't put signs on your sister.
Now, keep the lettuce separate until 11:30.
That way, the lettuce stays moist and the bread stays dry.
Mom, you fuss over us way too much.
Enjoy it now. When you're a grownup, you'll have to take care of yourself.
Marge, there's a spider near my car key.
You did the right thing by telling me.
Shoo. Get out of here.
That's better. Now that we're alone...
...Papa Bear has a little honey for his Mama Bear.
"Good for a three-hour getaway at the Mingled Waters Health Spa.
Mineral bath, facial massage." How did you afford these?
Oh, never you mind.
What advantages does this motorcar have over, say, a train?
Which I could also afford.
Well, you'll notice how the heated gas pedal warms your feet while...
- gently massages your buttocks.
Well, Count Homer, shall we discuss the...?
No, we shan't.
Homie, this is so sweet.
But I can't possibly go now. The sink is full of dirty dishes.
The trash needs to be taken out, the living room is a mess.
We'll clean up this afternoon.
- What about Maggie? - I got my dad to look after her.
Behind you.
Don't do that!
Come on, honey. You work yourself stupid for this family.
If anyone deserves to be wrapped up in seaweed and buried in mud...
...it's you.
Well, all right. But I'm taking some of the ironing with me in the car...
Tighten those braids, Missy. Hoist your flag, Dooley.
Nelson, you look adorable.
I feel like punching myself.
Bart, stop scratching. You're messing up your hair.
Lice? How on earth does a boy get head lice in this day and age?
We bought a wicker basket from Trader Pete...
...and he was passed out inside.
Hey, how come I get lice and nothing happens to Milhouse?
So cold. So very, very cold.
See you in hell, you wingless bloodsuckers.
What kind of parents would permit such a lapse in scalpal hygiene?
Well, you'd better check out his sister.
She could be rife with them bugs too.
- Keep away. - You can't catch us.
Hey, come on.
Those are prescription shoes. I need them.
You have cooties You have cooties
- No, I don't. - Lisa Simpson...
...report to the principal's office for head-lice inspection.
You have lice!
My tongue.
Heads up.
Principal Skinner, I need some shoes.
Sweet Georgia Brown.
Something is rotten at the Simpson house.
This is so relaxing.
- Homie, this was a wonderful idea. - Yeah.
If that Mafia guy weren't staring at us, I'd take off my towel.
Oh, don't mind me. Look, I do it first.
Would you look at this place?
Sink full of dirty dishes, trash not taken out...
...living room a mess, stacks of old newspapers.
From 20 years ago!
Get ready, gamblers, for the World Series of Dog Racing.
What the...?
A disheveled and malnourished man found sleeping in his own filth.
Seems confused and dehydrated.
- Where's the baby? - Well, that's her, ain't it?
Kids love that water.
- Oh, my Lord. - Stupid babies need the most attention.
All is well. All is well.
Turn tape over.
All is well. All is well.
- Children, where are your parents? - I don't know. They should be here.
Yes, they should be here.
Those parents better have a good excuse.
I love getting away from this dump.
It's like I'm on some wonderful drug.
- What's going on here? - Child Welfare, ma'am.
Here's a little bedtime reading.
"Squalid hellhole"?
"Toilet paper hung in improper overhand fashion"?
"Dogs mating on dining-room table"?
- What are you doing with my children? - We're taking them.
What? No.
You can't. I won't let you.
Mrs. Simpson, restrain yourself or you'll be arrested.
Now, just relax, kids. All we're doing is taking you to...
...a foster home.
Hey-dilly-ho. Welcome to your new home, neglect-areenos.
Kids, meet your new foster family.
- We love you. - We love you.
Please don't hug me. It sickens me.
I don't judge Homer and Marge. That's for a vengeful God to do.
We wanna give you kids a good home until they get their act together.
You don't understand. Mom and Dad take good care of us.
That was a baby tooth.
It was loose.
Don't you worry, little girl.
We'll get you some nice county dentures.
"Parents are not to communicate with children...
...and must stay at least 100 feet away at all times."
We leave you the kids for three hours and the county takes them away?
Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch.
I can't believe I put my own pleasure ahead of my home and family.
That is so like me.
Oh, Marge, don't blame yourself. I'm the terrible parent.
The boy bugs the hell out of me, I can't help Lisa with her homework.
The only thing I'm fit to take care of is a houseplant.
Lousy houseplant!
You son of a...! I'll teach you to...!
Go with it.
Here you go, Todd, the city edition.
I don't know if this should be an extra.
Is your source on this reliable?
Oh, I hate this place.
Yeah, it seems like our house...
...but everything's got a creepy Pat Boone-ish quality to it.
Hey, kids, nachos, Flanders-style.
That's cucumbers with cottage cheese.
Oh, Bart, I know you're still getting adjusted here.
Tell you what, we'll do whatever you wanna do.
Watch Itchy & Scratchy.
Well, I guess a little television won't hurt.
I used to let the boys watch My Three Sons...
...but it got them all worked up.
Why? Why?
My only son.
Daddy, what's the red stuff coming out of kitty's ears?
That's just raspberry jam.
Dad, should I poke Rod with a sharp thing like the mouse did?
No, son. No sirree, Bob.
- Can you see them? - I can see Lisa...
...but it might be a starfish.
I gotta call them.
The number you have dialed can no longer be reached from this phone...
...you negligent monster.
That's it. We're going downtown to get our kids back, right now.
We've always tried to be good parents.
Please, I'm begging you, one mother to another.
You must have a family.
- No, I don't care for children. - Now, wait a minute.
Okay, I'm not gonna win Father of the Year.
In fact, I'm probably the last guy in the world who should have kids.
Wait. Wait, can I start again?
Fathering children is the best part of my day.
I'd do anything for Bart and Lisa.
- And Margaret? - Who? Lady, you got the wrong file.
- It's Maggie. - Oh, her. I got nothing against Maggie.
I can see you sincerely want your children back.
But you have a lot to learn about being parents.
Before I return your children...
...you have to complete a course called "Family Skills."
- It teaches parents to listen to their... - Communication, gotcha.
- It's important to... - Listen, yes.
- But there's... - I have listening skills.
- Mr. Simpson, would you please... - Shut up, judge!
Peekaboo. I see you.
I've never heard Maggie laugh like that before.
When was the last time Dad gave her that kind of attention?
When she swallowed that quarter.
I thought I could ride this out, but everything's just too weird.
I know. They put honey on pancakes instead of maple syrup.
And they read Newsweek instead of nothing.
Come on, you gloomy Guses.
Who's up for a big bowl of nonfat ice milk?
- I want wintergreen. - Unflavored for me.
And then I saw my boy in a burlap sack and they told me he had lice.
- Is this story going somewhere? - Easy there, Flub.
We're all gonna get a chance.
Mrs. Skinner, why are you here?
The county is threatening to take my Seymour away.
Oh, we had another fight over the inflatable bath pillow.
I kept screeching and screeching at him, but...
All right. Who knows how the Skinners could have resolved this problem?
Without resorting to violence.
Or childish name-calling.
Anybody? Okay, that's okay.
Because making a happy home isn't like flipping on a light switch.
Light switch?
There are a lot of little tricks you should've learned.
Such as: If you leave milk out, it can go sour.
Put it in the refrigerator or, failing that, a cool, wet sack.
And put your garbage in a garbage can, people.
I can't stress that enough. Don't just throw it out the window.
This is so humiliating.
"Garbage in garbage can." Makes sense.
Nighty-night, my sweet little foundling-a-dings.
But it's only 7:00.
Yeah, the sun is still out.
They say your folks can’t pay the rent
So we're watching you By act of government
Well, I don’t know If the allegations are true
But you got us And, baby, we got you
Babe We got you, babe
You know, Maggie hasn't been a Simpson as long as us.
I think she's beginning to forget Mom and Dad.
Remember how Mom used to microwave our underwear on cold days?
Or the way Dad used to call the radio station with fake traffic tips.
They're 10 feet away and we can't even talk to them.
I wish I could tell them how much I miss them.
It's so quiet here without the kids.
What I wouldn't give to hear Lisa play another one of her jazzy tunes.
Saxa-ma-phone
And I miss the way Bart would say something and then say "dude."
I wish I knew something about the baby I could miss now.
- You mean Maggie? - That's it.
We've never been separated from the kids for so long.
I don't know how much more I can take.
- That's Bart's ring! - That's Bart's ring!
"Todd smells."
- Oh, I already knew that. - Look at the other side.
Let's see if we've learned anything.
I want you two to simulate a typical household problem. Go.
Pa, I cut myself on the screen door again.
Why, you cotton-picking...
No, I gotta pass this class for my kids.
Son, let's stop the fussing and a-feuding.
I love you, Pa.
I love you, Cletus.
Well, children, it's Saturday night.
What say we let our hair down and play Bombardment...
...of Bible Questions.
- Which version shall it be? - St. James.
The Vulgate of St. Jerome.
Vulgate it is.
For one gold star, what Persian king exempted the Levites from taxation?
- Artaxerxes. - Righty-o.
- Well? - I know!
No, son, we gotta let Bart and Lisa get one.
Come on, this one's easy.
- We give up. - Well, guess.
Book of Revelations. Fire-breathing lion's head.
Tail made out of snakes. Who else is it gonna be?
- Jesus? - Je...? Jes...?
Don't you kids know anything? The Serpent of Rehoboam?
The Well of Zohassadar?
The bridal feast of Beth Chedruharazzeb?
Why, that's the kind of thing you should start learning at baptism.
Actually, you see, we were never baptized.
Oh, Neddie.
Neddie. Neddie!
No, that ain't gonna do it.
I'm proud. You've learned how to care for your children...
...how to maintain your homes, and you've all passed the drug test.
Except for Marge. Marge, you tested positive for crack and PCP.
Oh, my.
Okay, the retest says you're clean.
The only thing I'm high on is love, love for my son and daughters.
Yes, a little LSD is all I need.
All right. Sounds very good.
Jeepers H. Crackers. I'd better call the reverend.
Ned Flanders is on the phone.
Hello, Ned.
Reverend. Emergency. Simpson kids. Iddily. Baptism. Ooddily. Doodily-diddly!
Ned, have you thought about one of the other major religions?
They're all pretty much the same.
Damn Flanders.
Looks like I'm gonna have to baptize you myself.
Kids, we're good parents now. Get your asses out here!
We missed you so much.
He's going to baptize our children?
Oh, no. In the eyes of God, they'll be Flanderses.
I never thought Homer and Marge were bad parents...
...but now I know you kids need a less hell-bound family.
Just sit back, and before you know it, you'll be part of the Flanders flock.
You're gonna be Lisa Flanders.
You're gonna be Bart Flanders.
Oh, relax, Bart. Your sister Maggie isn't scared.
That's because she can't talk.
Daddily doodily.
Where are we going?
Okay, okay. Don't panic.
To find Flanders, I just have to think like Flanders.
I'm a big four-eyed lame-o.
And I wear the same stupid sweater every day and...
The Springfield River!
Today we write a new page in the Flanders family Bible.
Who wants to be the first to enter God's good graces?
Easy. Easy.
Oh, why do you hate my trains?
Son of a...
Do you reject Satan and all his empty promises?
No!
Wow, Dad, you took a baptismal for me. How do you feel?
Oh, Bartholomew, I feel like St. Augustine of Hippo...
...after his conversion by Ambrose of Milan.
Wait, Homer, what did you just say?
- I said, shut your ugly face, Flanders! - Oh, fair enough.
Oh, there's my sweet little Maggie.
Oh, Maggie, you're a Simpson again.
What was it like at the Flanders' house?
- Yeah, give me all the dirt. - Let's see, dirt. Dirt...
There wasn't really much dirt.
There was a bunch of old paint cans in their garage, though.
Old Painty-Can Ned.
I always knew he'd keep his old cans of paint.
Yeah.
How do you like that?
Subtitles by SDI Media Group
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