Eight Is Enough (1977–1981): Season 1, Episode 3 - Pieces of Eight - full transcript

Tom becomes the editor-in-chief at his newspaper, but he quickly runs into trouble when the printers go on strike. The whole family pitches in to help earn extra money.

- Hi, Nicholas.
- Hi, Dad.

- Nicholas, do you know what a strike is?
- Uh-huh.

It's when you miss the baseball.

Yes, that's right. Uh...

That's good, Nicholas.
Very good, very good.

But, uh, a strike is
also, uh, trouble at work.

Serious trouble...

and, uh, well, serious trouble at
work means serious trouble at home.

Uh...

We all have to start cutting
corners around here...

and so I was wondering if
you could do old Dad a favor.



Uh...

Could you drink
water instead of milk?

I mean, water is good for you.
It tastes good and it's cheap.

Did you ever try washing down
a mouthful of peanut butter...

with a nice cold glass of water?

Strike three, I'm out.

Come on, Nancy, give
me a break, would you?

Okay, okay.

Hey, it's a bathroom,
not a library, you know.

- Some people can do two things at once.
- Nance...

how'd Dad react when
you dropped the bomb, huh?

I don't know why you're making
such a big deal about this, Joanie.

Oh. You haven't dropped
the bomb yet, huh?

I'm just asking to be a model,
not a lady of questionable virtue.



I doubt he's gonna be able
to make such a fine distinction.

You do?

Maybe I better wait till he
has had his morning coffee.

Remember, it's no big deal.

Tommy!

- I'll make it fast.
- Oh, Tommy.

I was here first. Aw...

Take a number.

"Most Americans are baffled by
the complex scientific... involved..."

So is this reporter. I
don't know what I'm doing.

- Good morning.
- Oh, hi.

I thought when you moved out,
you took your dirty socks with you.

Well, I do it for Mom, really. She
likes to feel that she's still needed.

Yes, David, your unselfishness
never ceases to amaze me.

You're up early.
Something wrong?

No, nothing a little journalistic
inspiration wouldn't help.

My editor in chief took his wife
away to Europe for a couple of weeks...

left me in charge of the paper. I have to
write his editorials plus my own columns.

A real Citizen Kane.

I thought I'd get a head start
before the early morning rush.

The only problem is, I have
zero to editorialize about.

All this peace and
quiet isn't helping.

Hi, David.

- Hi, Mar.
- Dad, paper.

- Don't have time. You read it.
- Save me the front page, will you, David?

- You're always... Morning.
- Morning.

Wake up.

I want the front page.

- Morning, Daddy.
- Excuse me.

- Morning.
- Hi, David.

Hi. How's it going?

- Well, I guess it's going fine.
- Well, so much for peace and quiet.

Good morning, family.

Good morning, Susan.

- I'm doing the juice.
- Morning, everybody.

- Morning.
- Morning, Tommy.

Milk?

Sugar.

Oops. Too much sugar
isn't good for the body.

Especially a body
in his condition.

I think he wants
it for his coffee.

Yeah, well, I've been experimenting
with several diets lately.

One which I find
particularly appealing...

says that large quantities of
anything including sugar is a no-no.

I'll respect your philosophical
and dietary beliefs...

if you will respect mine,
and please pass the no-no.

I'm a Protestant.

We don't have any philosophy.

Well, now that I know what you are,
do you mind telling me who you are?

Yeah, I'm Julian. Heh.

Oh, Juli... Joan, I'll take a chance.
Where did this little boy come from?

My class.

Well, what is this, a boarding
house that we're running?

That doesn't make sense.

Oh!

Oh!

Nicholas, my editorial.

That's worse now. Juli...
Nicholas, what have you done?

Dad, he didn't mean it.
He's just trying to be helpful.

- Didn't mean it?
- Well, he didn't.

Nicholas, would you go on...

and get ready to go to
school before you miss the bus.

- Very difficult...
- Oh, honey, it was an accident.

Boy, oh, boy, somehow noise
pollution doesn't seem to matter anymore.

You know what? I think I'll do a
piece on zero population growth.

Who wants bacon?

Just finished your editorial
on the offshore oil drilling.

- Not too shabby.
- Oh. Well, thanks, son.

You presented a very adequate argument,
even if you did take the wrong side.

Yeah. Well, it's nice
to be appreciated.

Aren't you late for work?

The union got us the morning off so we
could vote for our new labor negotiators.

- I didn't know that you were a party man.
- Never was.

Like you told us kids, if you're gonna
play the game, you follow the rules.

I know. I just didn't have any
idea that anybody was listening.

Oh, we listen. We
just don't usually agree.

I'll catch you tonight
when I pick up my wash.

No, no, no, not
unless you're very late.

The work of a columnist is never done,
but the toils of an editor is sun to sun.

You're taking this Citizen
Kane stuff seriously.

Yes. To tell you the truth, I
like it. All that executive power.

Even if sometimes I
do take the wrong side.

Listen, if your hours get really crazy,
I'd be glad to help you here at the office.

Oh, son, that's very touching.

I know. I'm a
wonderful human being.

I take after Mom.

Good morning, Dad.

Dad, can I talk to
you about my future?

- Sure. Talk.
- Well... Excuse me.

Excuse me. Sorry, Dad.

- Tommy, can I get in here a sec? Thanks.
- Yeah.

- Hey, we out of deodorant?
- Joan.

- Joan.
- I'm right behind you.

- Hurry up so I can comb my hair.
- What is this? A conspiracy against me?

Why is everybody
in our bathroom?

Elizabeth locked
herself in the other one.

Mom, put deodorant
on the market list, okay?

- Do you mind explaining why?
- Explain the need for deodorant?

No, why Elizabeth locked
herself in the other bathroom.

Oh. I called her a baby and she
won't open the door till I apologize.

- In a word, apologize.
- I can't.

Uh, it's the principle.

In this household, principles come
second to bathroom privileges...

so would you please march?

Okay, I'll apologize
to the adolescent.

And you, little fellow, you
march too. No more water play.

- Ah. Thing of beauty.
- Uh...

Uh, Nancy, did you
want to talk to me?

Mom, Dad...

I want to become a model.

No. No daughter of mine is going
to have a month named after her...

for some men's magazine so guys can
sit around the barber shop and gawk at her.

Tom, you never told me your
barber shop had that kind of literature.

I'm talking about
fashion modeling.

You know, next year's
fall line, cosmetics, clothes.

Oh. Oh?

It's real exciting work and I can
travel. And I can make lots of money.

More than I can clerking
or being a secretary.

Well, if it's okay with your
mother, it's okay with me.

I don't see why you
shouldn't try it, Nancy.

- Oh, thanks.

I knew you'd think
it was a neat idea.

There's just one little thing.

Well, to get modeling
work, you need an agent.

And to get an agent, you
need professional photographs.

And to get professional
photographs, you need $200.

Two hundred dollars? We
don't have 200... Explain that.

Nancy, why don't I
take your picture?

I'm not a professional, but you
always said I had a pretty good eye.

- Can we do it today?
- Why not?

Well, I don't have much time.
I mean, I gotta wash my hair...

I gotta pick out my wardrobe.

Hey, maybe Mary will loan
me that blue jersey of hers.

- How can you find
time? Isn't...? NANCY: Oh.

Ew.

How can you find
time to do this?

Isn't today the shopping, dry
cleaning, Tommy's orthodontist day?

- It's a diversion.
- Unh.

Tom?

Tell me about those magazines
in the barber shop, hm?

- Good morning.
- Oh, hi.

The janitor's outside to see you
about a problem with the furnaces.

Now, you've got a stack
of please-call-backs.

These must be proofed
for the late edition.

Here's today's mail and
here's my resignation.

I'm only kidding, Mr. Bradford.

For now.

The day has not even
begun and already I'm behind.

My brain feels eligible
for federal disaster funds.

Disaster funds, that might
make a good editorial.

Oh, and look, Donna, now that
our leaders are away on vacation...

you might as well expect a good
case of chaos for the next two weeks.

- Any suggestions?
- Yes, yes.

Take two aspirin, show the janitor
in and please return these calls.

Right.

Something's wrong.

Yes, but what?

Mr. Bradford...

the presses have stopped.

Oh, my gosh, you're right.

Mr. Bradford's office.

Get them off the line. Tell them that
we have to call the power company.

It's not the power,
it's the printers.

- There's a wildcat strike, Mr. Bradford.
- Strike?

I'm terribly sorry, Mr. French.

This is Mr. French from
the union on the line.

He is demanding an immediate
meeting with management.

Tell him that we'll get ahold
of management at once.

Mr. Bradford, you
are management.

Super.

Hi, Dad. I heard about the
strike on the news. It's awful.

I mean, working conditions at the
paper must be pretty substandard...

to force the
printers to walk out.

Maybe now, at least they'll
get what they deserve.

Honey, you look tired.

Mary, what about me? Why
can't I get what I deserve?

- I'm a working man too, you know.
- Come on, Dad. You don't work.

I mean, you're the management.

Well, I've seen the
enemy and she is all mine.

Heh. Don't blame Mary, Dad,
she's just basically pro-labor.

And habitually anti-father.

Boy, oh, boy, I tell you, I don't think
you people see the real issue here.

You know, strikes are notorious
for going on and on and on.

It could break the
back of the paper.

Don't you realize that?

Why are all of
these bottles empty?

Doesn't make sense.

That's not one of my children.

I know. That's Julian.
You met him at breakfast.

I know I met him, but
what is he still doing here?

He's eating. I guess
he likes the food here.

Yes, yes, well, I tell you,
I like the food here too.

That's my point.
If this continues...

there's not going to be any
more food for any of us to like.

Mom? JOAN: Mm-hm?

Larry Neff said he'd
develop my pictures.

What else is he gonna develop?

Doesn't anybody understand
what I'm talking about?

Mom, what's Dad talking about?

My job is in jeopardy.

If the strike continues, the paper
could fold and then where will we be?

That cookie and milk that Nicholas' little
house guest has been polishing off...

could very well be the difference
between food on the table and starvation.

Oh, come on, Dad,
don't be so melodramatic.

You're being melodramatic.
No one's gonna starve.

You're darn right, because as of
now I'm tightening the purse strings.

Instant accounting.

You better all dig down
and find your pennies...

because this family could
be in deep financial trouble.

Dad?

- What?
- Can I have an advance on my allowance?

Nicholas...

Didn't you understand
what I just finished saying?

That's why I asked
for an advance.

If we're gonna be poor, I want
an allowance while you still got it.

Let's go.

In a strange way, this
strike is a stimulating thing.

It's just like in the early days of
journalism when one man wrote the story...

ran the presses and then went
out on the street and sold the papers.

Mr. Bradford?

In the days when the cry of "stop the
presses" meant a new story was breaking.

- In the days when...
- Mr. Bradford.

We're printing classified
ads on the front page.

Sunsini! Stop the presses!

Press room, please.

- Oh, my goodness.
- Mom, I got a knot.

- You got a what, honey?
- Knot.

Well, come on up
here and we'll fix it.

Is this it? Oh,
that's not a knot.

We'll fix it anyway, okay?

- There.
- Mom, can you do my hem?

I don't think I'll
have the time.

Nancy's photographs are ready.

I promised I'd go over to the
agent with her. There you go.

Please. It won't take long.

- Okay, climb up.
- Here.

Well, my lady, what
length this year?

- Three inches below the knee.
- Three inches below the knee.

Here.

It's terrible what the
strike's doing to Dad.

Well, he sure has
a lot on his mind.

This business with the unions
and the strikes is so out of his field.

So why is he bothering with it?

I mean, it's not like he
owns the paper or anything.

He has an obligation.

The editor left him in charge,
and until he can find that editor...

who happens to be in Europe
somewhere, he has to run things.

Mom, has Dad ever
been out of a job before?

Hm? Oh, he was once.

Once when you
were a little baby.

He was editor of a small
magazine, and it went bankrupt...

and I think it took him about three
months before he found another job.

Well, weren't you scared?

Oh, not so much scared
as sort of helpless.

I was pregnant then with Susan.

Very pregnant, as
a matter of fact...

and there's not too much that a
woman with a 42-inch waist can do...

- to go out and earn money.
- So, what did you do?

Well, we cut back as best we could and
your grandparents lent us some money...

and your father was so happy
when he could pay them back.

There. Voilà, finished.

Mom, I have some
money in my savings.

Oh, honey, that's just
where it's gonna stay.

Your father still has his job
and everything's gonna be okay.

Yeah.

Sure it will.

Thanks for the hem.

Interesting.

I don't have any modeling
experience, but I'm willing to learn.

I ride horses and I play tennis.

And I'm taking a
drama class at school...

and I'm willing to cut my hair.

It's no problem.

- Very natural.
- Thank you.

This angle is
particularly flattering.

Thank you.

I'd say my age
range is 16 to 25.

Well, with the right clothes.

McELWAYNE: Who took these?

Oh, I did, Mr. McElwayne.

I'm sorry if they're not appropriate, but
my experience is really family picnics.

Don't apologize, Ms. Bradford.
These are very impressive.

They're dynamic even. You
have the eye of a natural craftsman.

- Craftsperson.
- Thank you. Heh.

McELWAYNE: You're a pretty girl, Nancy.
- Thank you.

At the moment, however, I have
more pretty girls than I can keep working.

Types are changing. Today,
off-the-wall sells better than cute.

I'm sorry.

I'll just have to
keep you in mind.

However, all is not lost.

What I desperately do need now,
today, is a qualified photographer.

Mrs. Bradford, I have a complete
darkroom and plenty of work.

What do you say?

Uh... Well, how
much does it pay?

Unh. JOANIE: Whoa.

Hey, I don't have
to ask how you are.

It's written all over your tie.

Yes, tomorrow's headline.

Hi, Dad.

- Where's your mother?
- Upstairs.

- Bye-bye.
- See you later.

Come on, Nancy. Open the door.

You know by not eating,
you're only hurting yourself.

Tom, you look terrible.

Why should I put
on a phony front?

What's the matter with Nancy?

She's feeling sorry for herself.

Anyway, it's hard not
to feel sorry for her.

She had her heart set
on becoming a model.

Well, I had my heart
set on retiring at 30.

You don't see me locked in
my room not talking to anybody.

She's only 18.

She has plenty of
failure to look forward to.

Well, there's one
other thing, Tom.

You see, I was offered
a job by the same man.

- As his photographer.
- Oh, great.

My daughter loses
a big chance...

my wife gets a chance
and she doesn't want it.

Life is really insane.

- I'm gonna take a shower.
- Tom, I want that job.

- That's insane.
- Well, we need the money...

and, well, just
look at yourself.

I'm afraid to. The
shock might kill me.

Susan, would you mind
reading somewhere else?

Oh, yeah. Sure, Mom.

Tom, look, the
strike is gonna go on.

The newspaper is not
gonna last much longer.

And you yourself have not
been able to secure another job.

Whoa. Hold off now. Templeton
Publishing called me today.

They offered me editor
of their new paper.

Really?

Tom, that's exciting. Why
didn't you say anything? Where?

Anchorage, Alaska.

Tom, if I don't take this job...

I'm gonna have to go out and get another,
and I'm not moving to Anchorage, Alaska.

How much will this job
of yours pay anyway?

Well, not much at first. But in
the end, I'll be sharing in the profits.

What about the
house and the kids?

I can look after the house and the
kids can manage well by themselves.

I don't know, Joan.

Tom, the welfare of this family is as
much my responsibility as it is yours.

Now, I have a
right to contribute.

- Fair enough. NANCY: How
could things turn out this way?

Dad, how can you let her do it?

You were supposed to be
looking after my interests, not yours.

My own mother.

- A traitor.
- Traitress.

That's no way to
talk to your mother.

- She'll get over it. TOM: Yeah,
I should help her get over it.

Dad, I have something
I'd like you to read.

- What is it, Mary?
- My letter to the editor.

You...

You've come out in total
support for the printers' union.

Yes, and totally against management's
stubborn, untenable, feudalistic stance.

I can't print this letter.

Why not, Dad?

You're always talking
about freedom of speech.

Well, now's your chance
to do something about it.

Traitress.

Make sure the boys
make their beds...

and for heaven's sakes, don't forget
to take something out for dinner tonight.

So how does it feel going out in
the business community the first time?

Scary. Listen, if you need me, I
left my number on the bulletin...

Okay, would you go already?
We can take care of ourselves.

Okay, bye. SUSAN: Bye-bye.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye.

- See you, Mom.
- She's so excited.

Okay.

I'll cook if you do the laundry.

I don't do laundry.

I'll probably be home late again, girls.
- Dad?

Didn't you forget something?

Not with you around.

I'm looking forward to reading
today's letters to the editor.

Sure. MARY: Have a nice day.

Mary, would you lay off him,
huh? He's just trying to do his job.

And I'm just trying to follow
my conscience, Joanie.

Well, follow it to
the back porch.

You're on laundry detail.

I don't know what to do. If I don't
print the letter, it shows prejudice.

If I do, the union is
gonna read it as a

sign that we're divided
and wanna surrender.

Mr. Bradford, if it makes
you feel any better...

there may be
nothing to print it on.

The paper mill just announced
their support of the strike.

No more newsprint deliveries
until a settlement has been reached.

And Mr. French
from the union called.

They've rejected
your latest proposal.

- Any luck in finding our evasive editor?
- None.

When he goes away, he's gone.

And our general manager is still in his
boat somewhere off the coast of Baja.

Well, this strike is a disaster
anyway. So print the letter.

Yeah.

Mr. Bradford, there's
one more thing.

David called and
canceled today's lunch.

He says he feels really weird
about crossing a picket line.

It's a really rotten
job, Mr. Bradford.

Well, if it wasn't,
everybody would be doing it.

Mr. Coopersmith, I
delivered my girls on time.

Why can't I get paid on time?

Jason, they said my
legs weren't long enough.

Yeah, one second, honey.

Yeah. Yeah?

Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah, well, I'm sorry that
your computer isn't feeling well.

Maybe it hasn't
been paid either.

I wore platforms but they
turned me down anyway.

They didn't want a
tall girl with short legs.

Would you hold on a second?
Honey, go shopping or something.

Just forget about it.

Well, that won't make
my legs any longer.

Yeah.

Yeah, well, I appreciate your
sympathy, Mr. Coopersmith...

but I'd appreciate
getting paid even more.

Yes, thank you.

I printed up this morning's
work. What do you think?

Good.

- That's nice.
- Yeah.

Hopefully these will
inspire some business.

Keep some of those
unemployed ladies off your back.

- You're learning fast.
- I have the Myerson twins in an hour.

How does a series at the
amusement park sound?

- I trust your judgment.
- Good.

I won't get back before
the end of the day. I'll call.

- Bye.
- Bye.

I'm home.

We're in the living room.

Mr. French and I were
just talking about you.

How nice to see my house used
as a strike headquarters, Mary.

Sit down, please.

- Dad, listen...
- No excuses, no explanations.

Since you seem to get some
morbid intellectual pleasure...

entertaining a man who has
given me great discomfort...

kindly have the decency
not to do it in my own home.

Good evening, Mr. French.

To what misfortune do I
owe this unexpected visit?

Mr. Bradford, I've seen
the paper's latest edition.

Yes, we're managing just fine without
the help of your union, thank you.

Except for a somewhat amateurish
printing job, I think it read very well.

Especially the
letters to the editor.

- You have a very bright daughter.
- Yes.

And one who I
couldn't agree with less.

I printed Mary's letter because
it deserved to be printed.

Not because management
was conceding to your demands.

Now, since that's what
you mistakenly assumed...

- I believe our conversation has ended.
- Mr. Bradford...

I pride myself as a
man of few assumptions.

However, I do assume that
you are a reasonable man.

Reasonable, not weak.

No one forced you to publish a
letter that was directly opposed...

to your own editorial policy,
and yet you did it anyway.

What I do and why I do
it is no concern of yours.

- But it is. It is.
- Why?

It tells me that you and
I can sit down together...

and hammer out our differences.

- It does?
- Yes.

Quietly, rationally...

perhaps over a drink.

- I drink Scotch.
- See?

Already, we have common ground.

Dad had no right to
talk to me like that.

He's always getting
so bent out of shape.

I think consorting with
the enemy falls into

the category of high
crimes and treason.

I was not consorting, Susan.
I was simply being cordial.

- He's always overreacting.
- Hey.

Could you pace over there?
You're causing a draft here.

Hi, anyone
interested in a movie?

Not as interested as I am in
passing a philosophy exam tomorrow.

- Mary?
- Uh, no, thank you, Nancy.

- I'm a little short on cash.
- Oh, don't sweat it.

You can owe me.

- You're awfully up tonight, Nancy.
- Heh, heh.

Why shouldn't I be?
Anything wrong with that?

No, Nancy, there's
nothing wrong with that.

You've been pouting and feeling sorry
for yourself since Mom started working.

- And I was just wondering...
- I was looking for company, not insults.

Hey, hey, wait a minute, Nancy.
Mary didn't mean to insult you.

Oh, no, Nancy.

I'm glad that you're not holding
a grudge against Mom anymore.

Well, now, that would be pretty
childish of me, wouldn't you say?

- That's what I'd say.
- I mean...

I figure if Mom wants
to neglect the family...

and carry on this ridiculous
charade of being a working woman...

she's entitled.

- Very mature attitude, Nancy. Very mature.
- Very.

Maybe not as mature as holding
your breath until you turn blue...

but I'd say you're moving
in the right direction.

Forget the movie.

You really ought to try it,
Nancy. I think blue's your color.

Ah. Sometimes I wonder why
parents have children. Heh.

- It must be the challenge.
- Gotta be.

Bob, I'm real glad
you dropped by.

Tom, we don't enjoy
strikes any more than you do.

I'll present our proposal
to the board in the morning.

- Printers should be back within the week.
- Very good.

Maybe we can have
dinner when the dust settles.

- I'll speak to my wife and call you.
- Heh, heh. Okay.

- Night.
- Good night.

It looks like the strike
has been resolved.

Oh, far out. That means
allowances are reinstated.

Dad, I'm proud of you.

It takes a big man to
admit that he was wrong.

No, no, no. No one
did anything of the sort.

We compromised.

- Is there anything to eat?
- Coming up. I've already fed the kids.

Look, let me explain
what I mean, Mary.

The printers gave a
little and we gave a little.

They said that they wanted
not to work on holidays...

so we gave them less
working hours. You understand?

They said that we had to hire 20
extra men, we settled on an even dozen.

And on and on.
It's all compromise.

Life is a compromise.

You'll realize that when you
get out of college and join life.

What is this? Did
you feed the kids this?

This is special for you.

You've been polluting
your body with cholesterol.

So I took it upon myself
to correct the problem.

- I like cholesterol.
- It's poison.

I tell you, I can't eat this.

It's good for you.

Here, Dad. One of
life's little compromises.

Thank God your mother can finally
quit her job and relieve me of my miseries.

Tom, are you ill?

I'm watching the late news.

Correction.

I'm watching where the
late news should be...

if my TV set was still
where it should be.

I'm afraid to ask where it went.

I'm just hoping that it
will magically reappear.

No questions asked.

Well, honey, I just
forgot to tell you.

Nicholas and Julian took
it out in the back yard.

- They're camping out tonight.
- They must be roughing it.

They left the remote control.

Come in.

Mom, can I speak with you?

- Sure.
- I'll go visit Lewis and Clark.

Mom, I'm sorry.

It's really weird, you know?

I realize I made
a mistake, but...

I still hurt.

Honey, whatever I do is
never meant to hurt you kids.

Yeah, I know.

But I've spent 18 years competing
with seven brothers and sisters...

for grades and attention,
heh, and the bathroom.

But when I imagined my own
mother competing with me...

- I guess I got a little crazy.
- You think I'm competing with you?

Oh, no, not anymore.

Maybe it was me
competing with you.

And I lost.

I don't think you
lost anything, Nancy.

Maybe you learned something.

Yeah, I learned
one thing for sure.

I think there's a better
future in photography.

- Oh, you do?
- Mm-hm.

You have any future
plans in taking over my job?

No way, the
competition's too stiff.

- Are we friends?
- Yeah, we're friends.

Red Dog One, come
in. What is your position?

Red Dog Two, this
is Red Dog One.

I'm bivouacked by the garage.

Red Dog One,
this is your leader.

Return to base.

It is time for lights out.

Well, I hope you boys
have everything you need.

I think so, Mr. Bradford, but you better
leave the back door open just in case.

Hi, Dad.

It was sure neat of you and
Mrs. Bradford to let us do this.

I never camped before. There's
always neat things to do over here.

We have fun at your house too.

Yeah, sometimes. But your
folks don't argue all the time.

Well, Julian, I'm glad
you're comfortable here.

Thanks. You know
what, Mr. Bradford?

- You remind me of my grandfather.
- Oh, thanks.

I think.

Those kids have enough gear
out there to colonize the North Pole.

Better not let them hear you.
They'll want you to drive them there.

Good news. In a few days
the strike will be history.

I guess you can
quit your job now.

I was thinking, when
the editor comes back...

we should take a long
weekend, just the two of us.

I don't wanna quit my job.

Maybe we could go to
Sausalito or Carmel... What?

I wanna keep my job, Tom.

I mean, this is the
first time since...

Adlai Stevenson's campaign that
I have felt needed for something...

other than housewifing
and motherhooding.

Adlai didn't have a
husband and eight children.

My God, Joan, it's not even a real job.
You're working for futures, not money.

What's wrong with
working for futures?

Tom, I have needs of my own.

Working gives me an identity
apart from you and the children.

I always let you
have your own...

- Did you hear what you said?
- What?

You have always let me.

Well, Tom, this time I
have earned it on my own.

Now, you be reasonable.
Why shouldn't I work?

Oh, you want reasons?
I can give you reasons.

Susan is health-fooding
me to death.

Nicholas stole my TV...

and somebody's pet made the
mark of zorro on my bedroom rug.

Look, your place is supposed
to be here looking after...

My place should be
my decision, Tom.

I thought we made your decision
when we had eight children.

Can somebody drive me home?

Why, Julian?

You remind me of my parents.

Always arguing.

Aw... Now, look at
what you've done.

Nice little boy, come here.

Oh...

Tommy. TOMMY: Yeah, Mom?

Get together your things.

- I'll drop you off on the way to work.
- Okay.

Nicholas, do you hear me? I
want that TV back in the house...

Joan, I am out of clean shirts.

You'll have to drop them at
the cleaners on the way to work.

That's clear across
town. I can't be late.

Well, neither can I. I
work too, you know.

Okay, Mom, I'm ready.

Oh, Tom, by the way,
one of my tires is bald.

Oh, really? Buy a new one.
You've got a job too, you know.

Can I spend the
night at Julian's?

Oh...

All right, I'd like to
open up this discussion

by saying that I think
this situation stinks.

Me too.

Why don't you go outside
and play or something, hm?

- I wanna hear.
- There's nothing to hear.

Then why do I
have to go outside?

Nicholas, because
you're too young.

I'm always too young. Mom and
Dad are my parents too, you know.

Yeah, we know they
are, Nicholas, but look.

We promise we won't do anything
without telling you first, okay?

Okay. But I won't
be too young forever.

- So, what are we gonna do?
- I don't think we should do anything.

Mom and Dad should work
out this problem themselves.

Hey, wait a minute,
weren't you the one...

who said one person's problem
was everybody's problem?

- Yeah, but this is different.
- I agree with Nancy.

- I think somebody should talk to Dad.
- Yeah.

- Well, why is it all Dad's fault?
- Nobody said it was anybody's fault.

But Dad has been acting
kind of stubborn lately.

Well, who's gonna talk to him?

Here's that. And this.

Thank you for the lunch.

Sorry it's nothing fancy.

They don't give us
much time to eat.

Dad, I don't want to meddle
in yours and Mom's affairs...

but I do have a vested interest.

Take my laundry, for instance.
Since Mom started work...

and the girls started filling in,
my laundry hasn't turned out good.

In fact, this used to be
my favorite dress shirt.

- Mm. Pretty bad.
- It used to have French cuffs.

David, if you want to
give somebody advice...

you've gotta learn to
make your points faster.

Mm. Right. Well...

the point is, regardless of
the hardships to the family...

Mom should be allowed
to work if she wants.

Yeah, I'm well aware that your mother
should work, and can work if she wants to.

Believe it or not, I've read all
the books, heard all the lectures.

Had my consciousness raised until
I'm beginning to talk with a high voice.

Well, if you're so liberated, why can't
you accept the fact that Mom's working?

- I don't know.
- Well, maybe you're just old-fashioned.

You know, a woman's
place, and all that junk.

Yeah, maybe.

I only know that with eight kids,
somebody's place better be at home.

Look, David, I'm not good
at self-analysis and all that.

I only know what makes
me happy and what doesn't.

Dad...

so does Mom.

Yeah.

I got some great
photos at the train depot.

- I'll just put them in the soup.
- There's no rush.

I'm afraid I have some bad news.

Even someone as
inexperienced as I am...

knows that bad news means
that someone's getting fired.

And since I'm the
only employee...

Well, no one's
getting fired, exactly.

I've come to realize at the
suggestion of my bookkeeper...

that I can no longer
afford to stay in business.

Oh.

It's been a lousy fiscal year.

I've got a family, a boy
starting college, and no money.

The newspaper wants
me to start Monday.

Did you say the newspa...? You
mean the Sacramento Register?

I haven't told the girls yet.
I wanted you to know first.

Some of the girls
may still want pictures.

I'm sure you can work
out any arrangements.

Yeah, well, we may lose a few of the
advertisers because of the delay, Bill...

but they're coming back around.

Oh, yes, I'll be right
up. Bill, welcome back.

- Hi, Joan.
- I don't believe it.

That you would deliberately go and
hire my boss right out from underneath me.

I'm not sure I understand
what you're talking about.

You couldn't get me to quit...

so you deliberately hired
Jason McElwayne to spite me.

- Who is Jason McElwayne?
- Oh, come on, Tom, who is Jason...?

Uh-huh. Jason McElwayne.

Here it is. Photo engraver,
lots of experience.

Oh, Joan, hiring
a photo engraver...

was one of the conditions
in the strike settlement.

But why him? Why not
anybody else? Why him?

Because things don't
always work out your way.

Look, Joan, I have nothing to
do with the hiring around here.

But if I did, I have a
duty to this newspaper.

- Your Mr. McElwacky...
- McElwayne.

- Jason McElwayne.
- Jason J. McElwayne.

It's a dopey name. He happened
to be the best man available.

It's not fair. I mean, you knew
how important that job was to me.

Isn't it fair for him to
earn a decent living...

so he can take
care of his family?

Then maybe you'll have
time to look after yours.

You'll have to excuse me, my
boss just got back from Europe.

I have to be debriefed.

We'll talk later.

Maybe.

Oh, hi.

We should talk.

Don't tell Tommy where I am.

Come on.

Here, now. This
is a little quieter.

Tom, I'm sorry for bursting
into your office this afternoon.

It's just that I had this tremendous
feeling of self-esteem that...

What is that?

That's T.M.

T.M.?

- Transcendental meditation.
- Oh.

Tom, you should've seen me.

I actually was accomplishing
something on my own.

And most importantly,
I was really good at it.

Well, have I ever told you...

you're really good at being
a wife and mother too?

Oh, it's not the same.

Hi. Anybody seen Nicholas?

I'm talking to your mother.

Oh, is there anything to eat?

Well...

nothing like the great
outdoors for a little privacy.

You know...

maybe it was sort of stupid of
me to get so upset in the first place.

I mean, I guess if you
wanna keep working...

it's all right.

You should be able to drum
up business on your own.

- You say you're a good photographer.
- Hey, get a load of this.

I don't think it matters. I
don't have the equipment.

I don't have contacts. I don't
have anything to make a go of it.

Just because your boss
throws the towel in...

that doesn't mean that models
suddenly don't need pictures anymore.

Maybe I could buy McElwayne's
darkroom equipment.

He won't be needing it anymore.

And there's plenty of space in
the laundry room to set it all up.

Oh, I don't know, Tom.
TOM: Oh, come on.

If you freelance, you'll still
be available around the house.

At least when you're needed,
we'd know where to find you.

You really don't
mind my working?

- I can live with it.
- What is going on over here?

Shh!

Quiet.

Maybe it could work.

Why not? I mean, at
least it's worth a try, right?

On one condition: that you let me
pay for the darkroom equipment myself.

I mean, that way, it's
really my business.

If you wanna look a repentant
gift horse in the mouth...

have it your way.

Hey, gift horse...

how about extending this
freelance photographer...

a small business loan? Say
two years at eight percent.

What do you say?

You let me decide what
form the interest will take.

Okay, that's it.
The show is over.

Let's go. All of you, come on.

- Nancy, come on. TOMMY:
It was just getting good.

It was not.

Nicholas. What
are you doing here?

Shh. Don't tell
Tommy where I am.

This is 43 inches across.

- Okay, three feet, seven inches, right?
- Right.

I think my enlarger should...
- Mom?

- What?
- I can't find my jeans.

- Well, check the wash.
- What about shelves...

- for your dryer and timer?
- Up here.

- Mom, can I borrow the car?
- Yeah, if you replace the gas.

The enlarger here. This
would be a perfect place for...

- Yeah.
- I'm not gonna be home for dinner.

- Me either. I've got a date.
- I want you home early.

You have school tomorrow.
No, really, come on. Um...

Oh, and do me a favor.

- Don't do anything with the cab...
- Mom?

- I'm gonna go to Bill's.
- Homework first, Bill second.

Don't do anything with the
cabinets until I see David.

One other thing. I want the
blinking light above the door.

- So that...
- Mom, I'm hungry.

What you need is a
padlock and a guard dog.

Ha, ha. It's all right, Mom. I'll
feed him. What do you want?

A padlock for sure.

- Mom, I need a pair of nylons.
- Uh-uh.

- Just one more pair.
- I'm sorry, Mary. No more borrowing.

- One leg?
- Goodbye. Um...

I don't want anyone to
come in, so put the blinking...

- I don't want bologna.
- Nicholas, what about peanut butter?

Would you please tell
Susan to give me a ride?

Please?

- A guard dog for sure.
- Mm.

Now, where was I?

The blinking light.

The window. How
am I gonna do all this?