That's My Boy

You better hurry if you want hot wheat cakes!

Coming, honey.

One, two, up and do it.

Jack, will you hurry, please?

Be right down in a minute, hon. Keep those wheat cakes hot.

One, two, up and do it.

Jack? One, two, up and do it.

Are you hurrying, dear?

Another 35, and I'll be right down, hon.

One, two...

Junior gonna have breakfast with us, Mrs. Jackson?

I think so, May.

I hope he gets back from the doctor's in time.

Not sick again?

Nothing serious, just his old trouble, his eyes.

With this rainy weather, his sinus has been none too good.

Oh, May, we'll have to get rid of those flowers.

You know, with Junior's hay fever.

Seems to me like that boy's gettin' worse.

Not at all. Junior's just had his share of bad luck.

After all, he's only a baby. He'll outgrow it.

I don't know. I've been in this house for 15 years.

He's sure takin' his time.

We're not discussing Junior's physical condition.

Now, let's check on those wheat cakes.

Yes'm.

Jack, will you please hurry? Everything's getting cold.

Coming, honey.

Watch out below!

Oh, stop it, Jack!

Now, got a big kiss for your husband?

As soon as I catch my breath.

Breath? That's not the girl I married.

Since when does a former Olympic women's swimming champion

get out of breath? As of now!

I'm ashamed of you. You're getting old.

You're not the girl I married. The girl you married

wants you to eat your breakfast.

The girl I married was the greatest swimmer

to ever win in the Olympics.

And that was the day that I proposed.

Oh, you'll never change.

The perennial college boy.

Now sit down, and let's forget sports.

They belong in the scrapbooks,

and we sure have our share of them, all neatly bound.

So as we grow older, we can sit before the fire and read them

and quietly disintegrate together.

I hate to grow old.

Well, I must say, you're doing it rather gracefully.

I've never seen you looking more attractive.

Pretty good shape for a man of 41.

Still could get out on that field at Ridgeville U

and make those youngsters watch their step.

Oh, no, not Ridgeville U and football.

They haven't had a team up there in years.

The kids today just don't play guts football.

Jack, Ridgeville is a small university.

You can't expect them to beat

a university like Southern California.

When you and I went to school and I played quarterback,

we beat Southern California.

Sit down, dear, and eat your breakfast.

What a team we had that year, oh, boy!

Bronco Clayton, there was a fullback for you.

Ha! And Dusty Henrickson, an end. Dynamite!

How do you want your eggs, dear? Big Butch Gorky.

There never was a halfback like him.

How do you want your eggs?

And Pudgy Durgin, lightning fast.

We had a team that year, Ann.

There'll never be football like that again.

How do you want your eggs?

And in all due modesty, I must say,

we'd have never beat USC without "Jarring" Jack Jackson.

You know, they don't make you All-American on pull.

Didn't get that name "Jarring" Jack for nothing.

None of this fancy-pantsy dodgin'

like the kids are doing today.

You hunched yourself and hit the line hard.

You didn't go down because somebody grabbed you,

you carried them with you, right?

Right. How do you want your eggs?

USC thought they had us.

Ha-ha-ha! You remember, hon?

The score was 6-nothing, one minute to go, 20 yards,

and they thought we'd pass. I asked you a question.

Let me explain it, so you'll see for yourself.

Here was the play.

You play Stubby Cochran's position, center.

I don't wanna play Stubby Cochran's position!

He was a great center, Ann. Almost made All-American.

Stay down there. May...

Yes, sir. You play end for USC.

Excuse me, Mr. Jackson. I can't play end for USC.

The wheat cakes will get cold!

Well, maybe you're right. Play guard.

The play was right off center. That's it. Stay down there, hon.

Watch it, May, I'm coming around your end.

But Mr. Jackson, what about the wheat cakes?

This is ridiculous. Stay down.

We only got a minute to go.

All right, 44 shift, 33 shift, 22 shift, 21 hike!

Hi...

Are you hurt, son? No, sir.

Get off the floor. Put your hands up over your head.

Take a few deep breaths, come on.

That's it, you'll be all right.

Jack, stop that. Here, dear, let me help you.

Where are your glasses? I don't know, Mother.

They must be around here someplace.

Oh, well...

Oh, dear!

Oh, are you all right, dear? Here, let me help you.

There.

Oh!

I'll be all right. I'll just sit here at the piano for a while.

Thanks, Dad.

Dad, what were you doing?

Oh, nothing, I was...

Your father was reliving his youth.

Well, dear, you'd better go upstairs

and freshen up for breakfast.

All right, Mother. I'll be down in a jiffy.

All right.

Oh, Mother, Dad, do you notice anything different about me?

No, you look the same to me, son.

No, what is it?

Well, the lower half of the brace is off,

and the other half comes off next week.

That's wonderful, Junior. I think so.

I also have good news from Dr. Hunter.

What? He says that the liver shots

are working better than he expected,

and it'll only be a question of time. Bye.

Ann... You know that I love Junior

as well as any father ever loved a son.

In fact, I've named him Junior after me.

But how could this have happened to the two of us?

How could what have happened?

Let's face facts, Ann.

Look at you, look at me,

and then look at Junior.

Is there nothing to this doggone heredity business?

Oh, Jack, he's only a baby.

A baby? He's graduating from high school.

Yes, but he's just a child.

A child?

Is that any excuse for him to have hay fever

in both winter and summer?

To wear glasses since he was 6 years old?

To have sinus trouble whether it's rainy or isn't rainy?

For heaven's sakes, what's he going to be when he grows up?

It's frightening.

Jack, there's nothing wrong with Junior physically.

Dr. Hunter says it's psychosomatic.

Psychosomatic, what's that?

Well, his ailments are brought on

by mental and emotional disturbances.

Well, who's disturbing him?

You are.

Me? Don't be ridiculous.

You know there isn't a better father than I am.

I've given that boy everything.

When he was 6, I built him a gym out in the garage.

When he was 10, I gave him

the finest professional football equipment.

Oh, no, don't put the blame on me.

He's half yours too. Please, Jack, he'll hear you.

Well, I don't care if he...

if he does.

Let's eat our breakfast.

May. May!

Junior!

Hurry, your father's waiting.

I'll be right down, Mother.

I just have one more nostril to go.

Come on, Junior, everything's ready.

I'm... I'm sorry I'm late, Dad.

I used your razor, do you mind?

Razor? What for?

Well, I'll be... I'll be shaving soon.

In fact, it's starting to come in on my upper lip now, see?

Well, that's encouraging.

Be careful you don't cut yourself.

I'll be careful, but if anything did happen,

I always have my Boy Scout first aid kit with me.

I'm not an Eagle Scout for nothing, you know.

Heh.

Have some strawberries, son.

Oh, I'll have to pass it up, Dad.

Why? Build you up. Well, I...

You know Junior's allergic to strawberries.

He breaks out in a rash. Oh, yeah, I forgot.

Oh, that's all right, Dad, but I'm taking shots for it.

Great. Well, what's next?

May!

Jack, you don't have to bellow.

Mm, boy, those look good.

Pass your plate, honey.