The Brady Bunch (1969–1974): Season 1, Episode 2 - Dear Libby - full transcript
Marcia is reading the letters in this week's Dear Libby national advice column aloud to Jan and Cindy. She suddenly stops and refuses to read anymore. Initially she doesn't want to share the reason why to anyone, especially her parents. But when Mike and Carol are missing that section of the newspaper and plan on going to get another copy, Marcia, who volunteers to get another newspaper for them, eventually has to tell Greg the reason why. They decide to pass the news on to their other siblings: there is a letter is the column signed Harried and Hopeless from someone who has three children who recently married someone else with three children, and who was now feeling trapped in an unsatisfying marriage because of the new children. The kids are certain the letter was written by one of their parents. The kids decide to take extreme and drastic measures to save their parent's marriage and their new family. Regardless, their plan doesn't solve the issue of knowing if the letter was indeed written by Mike or Carol. Only one source can tell them for sure.
♪ Here's the story ♪
♪ Of a lovely lady ♪
♪ Who was bringing up ♪
♪ Three very lovely girls ♪
♪ All of them had hair of gold ♪
♪ Like their mother ♪
♪ The youngest one in curls ♪
♪ It's the story of a
man named Brady ♪
♪ Who was busy with
three boys of his own ♪
♪ They were four
men living all together ♪
♪ Yet they were all alone ♪
♪ Till the one day when ♪
♪ The lady met this fellow ♪
♪ And they knew that it was
much more than a hunch ♪
♪ That this group ♪
♪ Must somehow form a family ♪
♪ That's the way they all
became the Brady Bunch ♪
♪ The Brady Bunch ♪
♪ The Brady Bunch ♪
♪ That's the way they
became the Brady Bunch. ♪
Read the next one, Marcia.
Hey, this one's a beaut.
"Dear Libby, My boyfriend Ralph
says he loves me for my mind
"but, for my birthday,
he bought me a bikini.
Signed, 'What do you think?'"
"Dear 'What do you think?'
I think the same
thing you think."
That's what I like about Libby.
She gets right to the point.
What is the point?
I told you she's too
young to understand yet.
It won't be long.
This kind of stuff makes
you grow up quick.
Are those letters for real?
Of course. Dear
Libby gets letters
from people all
over the country.
Come on. Get to the next one.
Yeah, get to the next one.
Okay.
"Dear Libby, We have a
terrible problem in my family.
Come on, read.
It's just a dumb old letter.
You guys look at the comics.
Honey, do you have
section "B," page five?
Well, no. I thought you had it.
Maybe it got mixed up.
Marjorie Mack's wedding
is continued on that page.
I was right in the middle of
a battle on a college campus.
Over what? What's left?
Probably demanding
classroom credit for rioting.
Now, now, dear. Your
generation gap is showing.
I'm going to go and
get another paper.
Dad, let me go!
Marcia... where
did you come from?
I was just passing through.
I'll get another paper.
Wait a minute. What time is it?
I've already done
all my homework.
But it's dark outside.
Not very.
Greg! Greg'll go with you.
Oh, Dad, I'm old enough.
Yeah, Dad? I would
like for you, please,
to go out with Marcia and
get another newspaper.
There's a page
missing from this one.
Do I have to? Yes, you have to.
I'll miss the end of my show.
It's a rerun. I'll
tell you all about it.
Who did it, the
butler or the doctor?
What? The show.
What show?
The TV show. Who killed him?
Oh, I don't know.
You said you'd seen it.
Shh! What's the matter with you?
Keep your voice down.
I had to say something.
What do you mean, you
had to say something?
Because, if I hadn't, Dad
would've gone for the paper.
So what? He would've gotten one.
I repeat: so what?
Shh!
Marcia... close
the closet doors.
What's going on?
We can't let our
parents read that paper.
You figure they're getting
too old for the news?
Listen, Greg, that page
they're looking for wasn't lost.
So what happened to it?
I took it.
You took it?
You're really weird.
You won't say that
when you see it.
Just read this.
Here's your paper, Mom.
Oh, thanks, Greg.
Thanks, Marcia.
We were glad to do
it, weren't we, Greg?
Oh, sure.
Thanks, honey.
Well, of all the... What?
Well, this page has a
big black ink spot on it.
It doesn't seem to
be a very good night
for page five, section "B."
The printing press
must've gone haywire.
That's the trouble
with machines...
You can't depend on them.
You ask me, they're
on their way out.
What? Machines.
Yeah, none of them seem
to work right anymore.
I heard about this one newspaper
that printed a million
copies of page nine
right on top of page eight,
and left page nine blank.
I heard about that, too.
Really? What paper was that?
Boston Times. Chicago Post.
Boston Times. Chicago Post.
Is my riot readable?
Mm-hmm.
The wedding's here.
There's something else missing,
but I can't think what it is.
As long as it isn't "Peanuts."
I take back what I said
about your generation gap.
Oh, Peter, you be the lookout.
Okay.
Shh! What's going on?
What am I looking out for?
Our parents, dummy.
You want some advice?
When you grow up,
don't try to get into the FBI.
Never mind the lookout.
Just close the door.
Now, listen, you guys.
We got you all together
'cause this is
something important,
and we're all involved.
So you tell them, Marcia.
No, you.
Well, maybe we
should just read it.
I mean, maybe you
should just read it.
You're the oldest.
But you read better.
You guys gonna
horse around all night?
If it's that important,
somebody read it.
And quick. I have
to burp my doll.
Okay. This was in "Dear
Libby's" column tonight.
"Dear Libby, We have a
terrible problem in my family.
"I have three
children of my own,
"and three additional children
from a recent marriage.
"I had no idea
three new children
"could cause so much trouble.
"Should I continue pretending
to love these new children,
"and wait until they
wreck my marriage,
or should I get out now?"
It's signed... "Harried
and Hopeless."
What's so important about that?
Well, don't you see, Bobby?
Three children and
three new children.
That letter's about us.
We don't know anybody
named Harry Hopeless.
That's "Harried and Hopeless."
What makes you so sure
it's us? It could be anybody.
Sure. Anybody who just
happens to have three kids
and then marries
someone with three kids.
What's the matter?
I don't hear anything.
What's the matter with that?
Six kids and no noise...
That's what's the matter
with that.
I've never heard
such a loud silence.
Maybe they all went to bed.
What about those
trips to the kitchen
to stave off starvation
until morning?
Cries in the night for water?
Somehow, going to bed
turns every kid into
a dehydrated camel.
Do you think we
should check on them?
No. Marcia and
Greg said they would.
It's so quiet I can't think.
I know. I've read the
same sentence three times,
I still don't know
what it means.
Well, I think we
should check on them.
No, no, no, no, no.
We're going to let
sleeping children lie.
You mean somebody
doesn't love us?
Somebody doesn't
love the new children.
We're not the new
children. They are.
We are not!
Now, that depends
on who wrote the letter.
Right. If it's a woman, the
boys are the new children.
And, if it's a man, we are.
What did "Dear Libby" say?
"Dear 'Harried and Hopeless, '
"Give it a try a
little while longer.
It just might work."
And that's good.
'Cause that'll give us a
chance to do something.
Like what?
Like behave ourselves.
I mean, really behave ourselves.
Like act nice and do
our homework and stuff?
Yeah, and keep
our rooms picked up,
and help around the house,
and go to bed
without being told.
Don't fight with
each other, be polite,
and wash our hands and faces
and comb our hair.
Nobody'll recognize us.
We've got to do it.
For Mom and Dad.
Boy, keeping them married
sure is going to be hard work.
And then they washed the windows
after they came home
from school today
without being told.
Now they're out there
cleaning up the garage.
They even weeded the garden.
Maybe we ought to
take their temperatures.
Hey, I was watching that.
It's time for the ball game.
Big deal. It's an
important game.
Missing a dumb
game won't hurt you.
Nobody but a dumb girl
would say a dumb thing that.
If I'm dumb, you're super-dumb.
If you're so smart,
how come you're a girl?
What's the matter?
Peter came in and
switched channels...
There's an important
game on right this minute,
and she was watching a...
Would you knock it off?
We're supposed to be
on our best behavior.
What's wrong in here?
Nothing.
I thought I heard an argument.
Oh, that was on TV.
They're, uh... telecasting
a peace conference.
There. I won.
You cheated!
I did not!
Besides, you didn't see me!
I did, too!
You're a sore loser!
You're a sore winner!
Cindy, Bobby, be quiet.
But he cheated!
Only once!
Stop it, both of you.
Remember... Any trouble in here?
Oh, no. Everything's fine.
Fine.
Fine.
That's more like it.
What are you doing here?
Well, I couldn't sleep.
That's a crazy sleeping pill.
If I wake up in the
middle of the night,
at least I'll know why.
Sorry I woke you.
Oh, you didn't.
I couldn't sleep either.
Fix you one?
Why don't I just
have half of that one?
Okay. I'll pour the milk.
What's on your mind, dear?
What else? The kids.
What have they done wrong?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I know.
Every now and then,
I get the feeling I'm
in the wrong house.
My girls never went through
a phase like this before.
Did the boys?
No. Something is
drastically wrong.
Is this a top secret meeting?
Oh... come on in.
Sorry we woke you.
Oh, you didn't.
I couldn't sleep.
There's a lot of
that going around.
Make you a sandwich?
I'll make it. You skimp.
If this is an open meeting,
I'd like to introduce a
subject for discussion.
Feel free.
What's the matter with the kids?
We were just talking about
that. We wish we knew.
They say anything to you?
Not a peep.
But something's bugging them.
I think I'll just have
to ask them, that's all.
Would you do it tomorrow?
If there's anything
I can't stand,
it's a perfect kid.
And six of them. Yecch!
I'll drink to that. Yecch!
Yecch!
Hi.
Hi, Alice.
Wh... what are you doing?
Trying to find out
what you're doing.
Just raking some leaves.
You ask a foolish question,
you get a foolish answer.
Can we have a little talk?
Well, I... I really
got to get this done.
Uh-huh.
Hi, there.
Hi.
Can we have a little talk?
Well, I'm kind of busy.
Why are you trimming the lawn?
Because it's here.
Why do people climb mountains?
Well, so far today,
I'm batting a thousand.
Come on. I want you
kids to level with me.
What's going on?
Greg, what's going on?
We're gardening.
That's what's going on.
Okay, that's enough
of the small talk.
Come on, you two.
Front and center.
Sit down over here.
Come on.
Keeping your room spotless,
washing behind your ears,
eating everything
on your plate...
That's bad enough.
But this doing chores
around the house
without being asked is too much.
You six do-gooders
are driving me
right up the wall.
Either you tell me what's
going on around here,
or I'll tell all the
kids at school
the way you're behaving.
Alice, you wouldn't!
Wouldn't I?
I'll fink out to every
kid under 15 I can find.
Now, for the last time, tell
me what's behind all this.
Well, it's on account
of Mom and Dad.
This problem involves
your mother and father,
and you haven't
discussed it with them yet?
You two are pretty
unfair to your folks.
Raking the leaves and trimming
the lawn isn't going to help,
but talking things
over with them might.
Maybe she's right.
Let's tell them.
Okay. You tell
Mom and I'll tell Dad.
Come on.
Now, say, I'm not
the prying type,
so I won't to ask you
what the problem is.
But, if you want any
practice telling them,
I'm a very good listener.
Practice makes perfect.
And you think this
letter is about us?
Well, how many
families are there
with three old children
and three new children?
I don't know, but I'm glad
you finally decided
to show me the letter.
"Dear Libby"?
Well, yeah.
The lady that gives
advice in the newspaper.
And you thought this
was a letter about us?
Well, sure, Dad. What
else could we think?
Oh, Greg. Don't you know
there are any number of families
with children from
previous marriages?
But not with three kids apiece.
But I thought we were
all getting along so well.
We are.
Then how could you think
I would write such a letter?
Mom, we didn't say you wrote it.
And, even if we did, I
wouldn't try to solve a problem
by writing to "Dear Libby."
Dad, the letter didn't say
"Harried and
Hopeless" was a man.
You look terrible.
I have a right to.
Let me get you a cup of coffee.
Thanks.
I take it you had
that talk with the kids.
Oh, yes.
Maybe I'd better have
a cup of coffee, too.
Fire when ready.
Well, you know
Dear Libby's column.
Oh, yeah. I never miss It.
Well, you missed this one.
Read the second letter.
Hey, how about that?
She has three kids,
and he has three kids.
Just... like... Exactly.
You mean the kids
saw this and thought...
They thought, if they
behaved themselves,
"Harried and Hopeless"
would stay married.
Crazy kids.
Well, you've got to admit
there are quite a
few coincidences
between the family
in the letter and ours.
About 110%.
Right.
Alice...
you've known Mr. Brady
a lot longer than I have.
Well, you don't
suppose... Don't be silly.
Mr. Brady would never
do a thing like that.
I didn't think so.
He wouldn't write a letter
like that in a million years.
Oh, Alice, you don't know
how much I appreciate this.
Of course you're right.
You bet I am.
You don't work for a
man all those years
and not know what
kind of a man he is.
Mr. Brady write that letter?
Ha!
Thank you, Alice.
Alice... you know that
column in the paper
called "Dear Libby"?
Yeah, I've heard of it.
Yeah.
Read that second letter.
That's yesterday's paper.
I got another copy.
Hmm.
Interesting.
You think it applies to us?
"Us"?
Yeah. "Harried and
Hopeless" has three children
and married somebody
with three children.
Three and three.
I'd have to say
that's pretty close.
Yep. That's what I'd
have to say, all right.
Alice, do you think Carol
could have written that letter?
Mrs. Brady?
Why, Mrs. Brady wouldn't
write a letter like that
in a million years.
A billion years.
Well, I... I guess not.
I'm surprised you could
have thought such a thing.
Well, I... guess
it's just that...
men don't understand women.
What are you doing?
Oh, I... I was just wondering
if, uh, these chairs would
look better facing the fireplace.
Oh. Well, let's see.
Mike?
Hmm?
I really couldn't blame you
if you had written the letter.
What letter?
The one to "Dear Libby."
Oh, that letter.
Well, let's see.
How do you like
the chairs like this?
The table's got to
go the other way.
Oh, yeah.
No, I couldn't blame you
if you'd written it either.
I'd certainly
understand if you had.
So would I.
I guess the end table
has to go over there.
After all, it can't be
easy for one to adjust
to a whole new family.
No. Well, not for some people.
You'd think, though, that he
would have confided in his new...
Or "her."
spouse.
Yeah, you'd think so.
In fact, I think it
would be a good idea
if they talk the whole
thing over right now.
That is if... if he
has anything to say.
Or "she."
You know something?
What?
I hate the room this way.
So do I.
Mike?
Oh, hi, honey.
Mike... Hmm?
We've always been
honest with each other,
and it's silly to beat
around the bush
about something that
might be very important.
Yeah, yeah.
So, here goes.
I didn't write that
letter to "Dear Libby."
I'm perfectly happy
with my three new sons
and my wonderful new husband.
Oh.
I didn't write
that letter either,
and I adore my wife and
my three new daughters.
Oh... What a relief.
Now, how are we going
to convince the kids?
Hmm. Well, they're watching
a television show now.
As soon as it's over,
we'll talk to them.
Oh, good.
Should me and kitty
get worried now, Alice?
Nah. The sheriff will
be along any second.
Don't get up,
Alice. I'll get it.
I'll get it, dear.
Race you for it.
Beat you.
Mr. and Mrs. Brady?
Yes. Yes.
You don't know me.
I'm Elizabeth Carter.
Most people refer to
me as "Dear Libby."
I write a column.
You certainly do.
What a surprise!
It's very nice to meet you.
Dear Libby.
Won't you come in
and meet my fam...?
Won't you... come in?
Well, the fact is, I
never make calls
at the homes of
people who write to me,
but this was such an usual case,
I felt that it was justified.
Oh, we're very glad
to have you here.
Recently, I printed
a letter in my column
written by someone who
signed it "Harried and Hopeless."
Since then, I've received
seven letters from
the same address
all begging me to reveal
the name and
address of the writer.
It seems that
the original letter
was causing a great
deal of confusion
in a similar household.
So, I dropped by to meet...
"Kitty Carryall"...
"Feeling Awful"...
"Desperately Worried"...
"Down in the Mouth"...
"Real Frantic"...
"Guilt Complex"...
Oh, and there's one more:
"Innocent Bystander."
You'll all be happy to
know that the original letter
from "Harried and Hopeless"
came from Kingsford, Illinois,
2,000 miles from here.
Yay!
Oh, that's marvelous.
I sure am glad we're
not Harry Hopeless.
Imagine all the kids
writing "Dear Libby."
Alice, too.
Well, obviously, that
letter in her column
wasn't written by
either one of us.
Well, I don't suppose
you thought for a minute
that I was "Harry Hopeless."
Me? Are you kidding?
I know you wouldn't
do a thing like that.
Whatever...? Oh.
Well, maybe I did write
"Dear Libby" like the kids did,
but I never would
have mailed it.
I didn't mail mine either.
♪ Of a lovely lady ♪
♪ Who was bringing up ♪
♪ Three very lovely girls ♪
♪ All of them had hair of gold ♪
♪ Like their mother ♪
♪ The youngest one in curls ♪
♪ It's the story of a
man named Brady ♪
♪ Who was busy with
three boys of his own ♪
♪ They were four
men living all together ♪
♪ Yet they were all alone ♪
♪ Till the one day when ♪
♪ The lady met this fellow ♪
♪ And they knew that it was
much more than a hunch ♪
♪ That this group ♪
♪ Must somehow form a family ♪
♪ That's the way they all
became the Brady Bunch ♪
♪ The Brady Bunch ♪
♪ The Brady Bunch ♪
♪ That's the way they
became the Brady Bunch. ♪
Read the next one, Marcia.
Hey, this one's a beaut.
"Dear Libby, My boyfriend Ralph
says he loves me for my mind
"but, for my birthday,
he bought me a bikini.
Signed, 'What do you think?'"
"Dear 'What do you think?'
I think the same
thing you think."
That's what I like about Libby.
She gets right to the point.
What is the point?
I told you she's too
young to understand yet.
It won't be long.
This kind of stuff makes
you grow up quick.
Are those letters for real?
Of course. Dear
Libby gets letters
from people all
over the country.
Come on. Get to the next one.
Yeah, get to the next one.
Okay.
"Dear Libby, We have a
terrible problem in my family.
Come on, read.
It's just a dumb old letter.
You guys look at the comics.
Honey, do you have
section "B," page five?
Well, no. I thought you had it.
Maybe it got mixed up.
Marjorie Mack's wedding
is continued on that page.
I was right in the middle of
a battle on a college campus.
Over what? What's left?
Probably demanding
classroom credit for rioting.
Now, now, dear. Your
generation gap is showing.
I'm going to go and
get another paper.
Dad, let me go!
Marcia... where
did you come from?
I was just passing through.
I'll get another paper.
Wait a minute. What time is it?
I've already done
all my homework.
But it's dark outside.
Not very.
Greg! Greg'll go with you.
Oh, Dad, I'm old enough.
Yeah, Dad? I would
like for you, please,
to go out with Marcia and
get another newspaper.
There's a page
missing from this one.
Do I have to? Yes, you have to.
I'll miss the end of my show.
It's a rerun. I'll
tell you all about it.
Who did it, the
butler or the doctor?
What? The show.
What show?
The TV show. Who killed him?
Oh, I don't know.
You said you'd seen it.
Shh! What's the matter with you?
Keep your voice down.
I had to say something.
What do you mean, you
had to say something?
Because, if I hadn't, Dad
would've gone for the paper.
So what? He would've gotten one.
I repeat: so what?
Shh!
Marcia... close
the closet doors.
What's going on?
We can't let our
parents read that paper.
You figure they're getting
too old for the news?
Listen, Greg, that page
they're looking for wasn't lost.
So what happened to it?
I took it.
You took it?
You're really weird.
You won't say that
when you see it.
Just read this.
Here's your paper, Mom.
Oh, thanks, Greg.
Thanks, Marcia.
We were glad to do
it, weren't we, Greg?
Oh, sure.
Thanks, honey.
Well, of all the... What?
Well, this page has a
big black ink spot on it.
It doesn't seem to
be a very good night
for page five, section "B."
The printing press
must've gone haywire.
That's the trouble
with machines...
You can't depend on them.
You ask me, they're
on their way out.
What? Machines.
Yeah, none of them seem
to work right anymore.
I heard about this one newspaper
that printed a million
copies of page nine
right on top of page eight,
and left page nine blank.
I heard about that, too.
Really? What paper was that?
Boston Times. Chicago Post.
Boston Times. Chicago Post.
Is my riot readable?
Mm-hmm.
The wedding's here.
There's something else missing,
but I can't think what it is.
As long as it isn't "Peanuts."
I take back what I said
about your generation gap.
Oh, Peter, you be the lookout.
Okay.
Shh! What's going on?
What am I looking out for?
Our parents, dummy.
You want some advice?
When you grow up,
don't try to get into the FBI.
Never mind the lookout.
Just close the door.
Now, listen, you guys.
We got you all together
'cause this is
something important,
and we're all involved.
So you tell them, Marcia.
No, you.
Well, maybe we
should just read it.
I mean, maybe you
should just read it.
You're the oldest.
But you read better.
You guys gonna
horse around all night?
If it's that important,
somebody read it.
And quick. I have
to burp my doll.
Okay. This was in "Dear
Libby's" column tonight.
"Dear Libby, We have a
terrible problem in my family.
"I have three
children of my own,
"and three additional children
from a recent marriage.
"I had no idea
three new children
"could cause so much trouble.
"Should I continue pretending
to love these new children,
"and wait until they
wreck my marriage,
or should I get out now?"
It's signed... "Harried
and Hopeless."
What's so important about that?
Well, don't you see, Bobby?
Three children and
three new children.
That letter's about us.
We don't know anybody
named Harry Hopeless.
That's "Harried and Hopeless."
What makes you so sure
it's us? It could be anybody.
Sure. Anybody who just
happens to have three kids
and then marries
someone with three kids.
What's the matter?
I don't hear anything.
What's the matter with that?
Six kids and no noise...
That's what's the matter
with that.
I've never heard
such a loud silence.
Maybe they all went to bed.
What about those
trips to the kitchen
to stave off starvation
until morning?
Cries in the night for water?
Somehow, going to bed
turns every kid into
a dehydrated camel.
Do you think we
should check on them?
No. Marcia and
Greg said they would.
It's so quiet I can't think.
I know. I've read the
same sentence three times,
I still don't know
what it means.
Well, I think we
should check on them.
No, no, no, no, no.
We're going to let
sleeping children lie.
You mean somebody
doesn't love us?
Somebody doesn't
love the new children.
We're not the new
children. They are.
We are not!
Now, that depends
on who wrote the letter.
Right. If it's a woman, the
boys are the new children.
And, if it's a man, we are.
What did "Dear Libby" say?
"Dear 'Harried and Hopeless, '
"Give it a try a
little while longer.
It just might work."
And that's good.
'Cause that'll give us a
chance to do something.
Like what?
Like behave ourselves.
I mean, really behave ourselves.
Like act nice and do
our homework and stuff?
Yeah, and keep
our rooms picked up,
and help around the house,
and go to bed
without being told.
Don't fight with
each other, be polite,
and wash our hands and faces
and comb our hair.
Nobody'll recognize us.
We've got to do it.
For Mom and Dad.
Boy, keeping them married
sure is going to be hard work.
And then they washed the windows
after they came home
from school today
without being told.
Now they're out there
cleaning up the garage.
They even weeded the garden.
Maybe we ought to
take their temperatures.
Hey, I was watching that.
It's time for the ball game.
Big deal. It's an
important game.
Missing a dumb
game won't hurt you.
Nobody but a dumb girl
would say a dumb thing that.
If I'm dumb, you're super-dumb.
If you're so smart,
how come you're a girl?
What's the matter?
Peter came in and
switched channels...
There's an important
game on right this minute,
and she was watching a...
Would you knock it off?
We're supposed to be
on our best behavior.
What's wrong in here?
Nothing.
I thought I heard an argument.
Oh, that was on TV.
They're, uh... telecasting
a peace conference.
There. I won.
You cheated!
I did not!
Besides, you didn't see me!
I did, too!
You're a sore loser!
You're a sore winner!
Cindy, Bobby, be quiet.
But he cheated!
Only once!
Stop it, both of you.
Remember... Any trouble in here?
Oh, no. Everything's fine.
Fine.
Fine.
That's more like it.
What are you doing here?
Well, I couldn't sleep.
That's a crazy sleeping pill.
If I wake up in the
middle of the night,
at least I'll know why.
Sorry I woke you.
Oh, you didn't.
I couldn't sleep either.
Fix you one?
Why don't I just
have half of that one?
Okay. I'll pour the milk.
What's on your mind, dear?
What else? The kids.
What have they done wrong?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I know.
Every now and then,
I get the feeling I'm
in the wrong house.
My girls never went through
a phase like this before.
Did the boys?
No. Something is
drastically wrong.
Is this a top secret meeting?
Oh... come on in.
Sorry we woke you.
Oh, you didn't.
I couldn't sleep.
There's a lot of
that going around.
Make you a sandwich?
I'll make it. You skimp.
If this is an open meeting,
I'd like to introduce a
subject for discussion.
Feel free.
What's the matter with the kids?
We were just talking about
that. We wish we knew.
They say anything to you?
Not a peep.
But something's bugging them.
I think I'll just have
to ask them, that's all.
Would you do it tomorrow?
If there's anything
I can't stand,
it's a perfect kid.
And six of them. Yecch!
I'll drink to that. Yecch!
Yecch!
Hi.
Hi, Alice.
Wh... what are you doing?
Trying to find out
what you're doing.
Just raking some leaves.
You ask a foolish question,
you get a foolish answer.
Can we have a little talk?
Well, I... I really
got to get this done.
Uh-huh.
Hi, there.
Hi.
Can we have a little talk?
Well, I'm kind of busy.
Why are you trimming the lawn?
Because it's here.
Why do people climb mountains?
Well, so far today,
I'm batting a thousand.
Come on. I want you
kids to level with me.
What's going on?
Greg, what's going on?
We're gardening.
That's what's going on.
Okay, that's enough
of the small talk.
Come on, you two.
Front and center.
Sit down over here.
Come on.
Keeping your room spotless,
washing behind your ears,
eating everything
on your plate...
That's bad enough.
But this doing chores
around the house
without being asked is too much.
You six do-gooders
are driving me
right up the wall.
Either you tell me what's
going on around here,
or I'll tell all the
kids at school
the way you're behaving.
Alice, you wouldn't!
Wouldn't I?
I'll fink out to every
kid under 15 I can find.
Now, for the last time, tell
me what's behind all this.
Well, it's on account
of Mom and Dad.
This problem involves
your mother and father,
and you haven't
discussed it with them yet?
You two are pretty
unfair to your folks.
Raking the leaves and trimming
the lawn isn't going to help,
but talking things
over with them might.
Maybe she's right.
Let's tell them.
Okay. You tell
Mom and I'll tell Dad.
Come on.
Now, say, I'm not
the prying type,
so I won't to ask you
what the problem is.
But, if you want any
practice telling them,
I'm a very good listener.
Practice makes perfect.
And you think this
letter is about us?
Well, how many
families are there
with three old children
and three new children?
I don't know, but I'm glad
you finally decided
to show me the letter.
"Dear Libby"?
Well, yeah.
The lady that gives
advice in the newspaper.
And you thought this
was a letter about us?
Well, sure, Dad. What
else could we think?
Oh, Greg. Don't you know
there are any number of families
with children from
previous marriages?
But not with three kids apiece.
But I thought we were
all getting along so well.
We are.
Then how could you think
I would write such a letter?
Mom, we didn't say you wrote it.
And, even if we did, I
wouldn't try to solve a problem
by writing to "Dear Libby."
Dad, the letter didn't say
"Harried and
Hopeless" was a man.
You look terrible.
I have a right to.
Let me get you a cup of coffee.
Thanks.
I take it you had
that talk with the kids.
Oh, yes.
Maybe I'd better have
a cup of coffee, too.
Fire when ready.
Well, you know
Dear Libby's column.
Oh, yeah. I never miss It.
Well, you missed this one.
Read the second letter.
Hey, how about that?
She has three kids,
and he has three kids.
Just... like... Exactly.
You mean the kids
saw this and thought...
They thought, if they
behaved themselves,
"Harried and Hopeless"
would stay married.
Crazy kids.
Well, you've got to admit
there are quite a
few coincidences
between the family
in the letter and ours.
About 110%.
Right.
Alice...
you've known Mr. Brady
a lot longer than I have.
Well, you don't
suppose... Don't be silly.
Mr. Brady would never
do a thing like that.
I didn't think so.
He wouldn't write a letter
like that in a million years.
Oh, Alice, you don't know
how much I appreciate this.
Of course you're right.
You bet I am.
You don't work for a
man all those years
and not know what
kind of a man he is.
Mr. Brady write that letter?
Ha!
Thank you, Alice.
Alice... you know that
column in the paper
called "Dear Libby"?
Yeah, I've heard of it.
Yeah.
Read that second letter.
That's yesterday's paper.
I got another copy.
Hmm.
Interesting.
You think it applies to us?
"Us"?
Yeah. "Harried and
Hopeless" has three children
and married somebody
with three children.
Three and three.
I'd have to say
that's pretty close.
Yep. That's what I'd
have to say, all right.
Alice, do you think Carol
could have written that letter?
Mrs. Brady?
Why, Mrs. Brady wouldn't
write a letter like that
in a million years.
A billion years.
Well, I... I guess not.
I'm surprised you could
have thought such a thing.
Well, I... guess
it's just that...
men don't understand women.
What are you doing?
Oh, I... I was just wondering
if, uh, these chairs would
look better facing the fireplace.
Oh. Well, let's see.
Mike?
Hmm?
I really couldn't blame you
if you had written the letter.
What letter?
The one to "Dear Libby."
Oh, that letter.
Well, let's see.
How do you like
the chairs like this?
The table's got to
go the other way.
Oh, yeah.
No, I couldn't blame you
if you'd written it either.
I'd certainly
understand if you had.
So would I.
I guess the end table
has to go over there.
After all, it can't be
easy for one to adjust
to a whole new family.
No. Well, not for some people.
You'd think, though, that he
would have confided in his new...
Or "her."
spouse.
Yeah, you'd think so.
In fact, I think it
would be a good idea
if they talk the whole
thing over right now.
That is if... if he
has anything to say.
Or "she."
You know something?
What?
I hate the room this way.
So do I.
Mike?
Oh, hi, honey.
Mike... Hmm?
We've always been
honest with each other,
and it's silly to beat
around the bush
about something that
might be very important.
Yeah, yeah.
So, here goes.
I didn't write that
letter to "Dear Libby."
I'm perfectly happy
with my three new sons
and my wonderful new husband.
Oh.
I didn't write
that letter either,
and I adore my wife and
my three new daughters.
Oh... What a relief.
Now, how are we going
to convince the kids?
Hmm. Well, they're watching
a television show now.
As soon as it's over,
we'll talk to them.
Oh, good.
Should me and kitty
get worried now, Alice?
Nah. The sheriff will
be along any second.
Don't get up,
Alice. I'll get it.
I'll get it, dear.
Race you for it.
Beat you.
Mr. and Mrs. Brady?
Yes. Yes.
You don't know me.
I'm Elizabeth Carter.
Most people refer to
me as "Dear Libby."
I write a column.
You certainly do.
What a surprise!
It's very nice to meet you.
Dear Libby.
Won't you come in
and meet my fam...?
Won't you... come in?
Well, the fact is, I
never make calls
at the homes of
people who write to me,
but this was such an usual case,
I felt that it was justified.
Oh, we're very glad
to have you here.
Recently, I printed
a letter in my column
written by someone who
signed it "Harried and Hopeless."
Since then, I've received
seven letters from
the same address
all begging me to reveal
the name and
address of the writer.
It seems that
the original letter
was causing a great
deal of confusion
in a similar household.
So, I dropped by to meet...
"Kitty Carryall"...
"Feeling Awful"...
"Desperately Worried"...
"Down in the Mouth"...
"Real Frantic"...
"Guilt Complex"...
Oh, and there's one more:
"Innocent Bystander."
You'll all be happy to
know that the original letter
from "Harried and Hopeless"
came from Kingsford, Illinois,
2,000 miles from here.
Yay!
Oh, that's marvelous.
I sure am glad we're
not Harry Hopeless.
Imagine all the kids
writing "Dear Libby."
Alice, too.
Well, obviously, that
letter in her column
wasn't written by
either one of us.
Well, I don't suppose
you thought for a minute
that I was "Harry Hopeless."
Me? Are you kidding?
I know you wouldn't
do a thing like that.
Whatever...? Oh.
Well, maybe I did write
"Dear Libby" like the kids did,
but I never would
have mailed it.
I didn't mail mine either.