"What are you doing?" "I'm putting on lipstick." "For a parent/teacher conference?" "Yeah." "I always look nice for these things because I care about our child's education." "Last year, for Mrs. Belt, you showed up in pudding-stained pajamas." "Yeah, well, I care more now." "I wonder why." "Hey." "Sorry, I'm running a little late with this conference." "I'll be with you guys in a minute." "Oh, well, we're fine, Daniel." "Take your time." "We're not going anywhere." "Daniel will be with us in a minute." " You're still hot for teacher." " No, I'm not." "I mean, you know..." "Mr. Harris and I had a moment and we both realized we're attracted to each other, but we can't do anything about it as long as we have a kid at the school." "When did you and Mr. Harris have a kid?" "Quiet." "We decided to be friends." "Friends?" "How are you friends?" "You don't even know him." "I know him well enough not to wear pudding-stained pajamas." "I don't understand the big deal with you and this guy." "Everybody else seems to be able to control themselves." " Thanks again, Mr. Harris." " Let's do this again soon." "Maybe next time, we'll do it at my place." "Or mine!" "I have a pool." "Hello, Christine." "Hello, Richard." "Hi." "Wow." "A little overdressed, don't you think?" "Well, we care about our kids' education." "How are your kids doing?" " Oh, I don't know." " They're probably fine." "Well, that was embarrassing." "Transcript :" "Raceman Subtitles :" "Amariss" "Like I say, he's performing above grade level in most subjects, though he could stand to put a few more hours into biology." "We, uh... had a test on the evolutionary process and he seemed a little confused." "Really?" "Because I explained the whole thing to him." "You know, how the animals were all in the sea and then they all got together and, uh, decided to crawl out onto the land there." "That doesn't make sense." "How do we get birds?" "Because once the animals crawled onto the land, the smart ones learned to fly." "Right, like parrots." "And then language was born." "We have tutors available for him." "Or for you." "Anyway, Ritchie's a great kid." "He's smart, he's happy, polite." "My only concern is socially." "What do you mean?" "Well... all the other kids like him, he just doesn't really have his own group." "During recess for example, while the other kids are playing, he stays with me and helps me grade papers." "Now, sure it's less work for me, but... he doesn't have any close friends." "But he's always going on and on about his best friend Austin." "That's Mrs. Austin, the 50-year-old secretary in the Admissions Office." "They have lunch together every day." "I guess that explains why he knows so much about need-based financial aid." "We better cancel that sleepover." "Look..." "It's not a problem." "I just want to bring it to your attention." "Well, I mean, do you think that there's something that we should do?" "Well, it may be a good idea to get him involved in some after-school activities." "Is he interested in sports at all?" "What?" "That's a great idea." "Oh, come on." "He's not an athlete." "I gave him a Frisbee once, he used it to serve hors d'oeuvres." "Well, just to put it out there, I'm the coach of the school soccer team this year." "If Ritchie would like to join, I'd be able to keep an eye on him and, hey, worst case scenario, he can always serve mid-game shrimp cocktails." "Yeah." "I don't think that sports is the best idea for Ritchie, but we'll think of something." "Thank you very much, Mr. Harris." "Thanks." "I like the sports idea." "Richard, you know how I feel about competition." "You're one of the most competitive people I know." "One of?" "Who is more competitive than me?" "Okay, you know, Richard, I am not having this conversation in front of our son's teacher." "It's completely inappropriate." " Uh..." "Christine?" " Yeah?" " My hand." " Oh!" "Oh, sorry." "Oh, I got it a little bit, uh, sweaty." "Sorry." "Nice." "No, I don't want to talk about this anymore." "Ritchie has been in sports." "He doesn't like it." "He always ends up quitting." "Because you let him quit." "He needs to learn how to be a team player." "How to follow-through." "How to run without breaking into a skip." "You know, he's the only boy in his class who can do a cartwheel." "That doesn't help me." "Besides, sports is how I made all my friends growing up." "This'll be good for him." "I just don't want him exposed to that whole jock/frat-boy world, you know?" "Next thing you know, he and his teammates will be peeing on a tarp and using it as a Slip 'n Slide." "We made it to the state championship." "We were celebrating." "And besides making friends, I think it's time" "Ritchie had more male influence in his life." "And sports is a good way to do that." "He has plenty of male influence here." "Oh, hey, uh..." "do these pants look weird on my butt?" "No." " Your butt looks good." " Really?" "'Cause I can wear the other ones." "Yeah, you know what?" "Maybe go with the other ones." "Okay, thanks, hon." "Bowling, the Army, anything." "We've got to man him up." "All right, fine." "All right." "But I'm telling you, I don't want him turning into one of those ape men who goes around scratching his junk and giving girls the up-down." "What's the up-down?" "You know, the up-down." "Hey." "Yep." "I'm telling you, he turns into a superjock," "I'm pulling the plug." "Fine." "Hey, Ritchie, come here a minute, bud." "Sweetie, your dad wants to sign you up for a new sport." " Gymnastics?" " No." "Good Lord." "How would you like to join a soccer team?" "No, thanks." "Because I did it when I was your age." "You could make some new friends who aren't in menopause." "And I think you'd have a good time." "So what do you say?" "Is there dancing?" "No, bud." "There's soccer." "Kicking and running and passing." "And Mr. Harris is the coach." "I like Mr. Harris." "Great." "Come on, bud." "I think there's an old ball in the garage." "We can kick it around." " For what?" " For soccer." "What, you're making him play soccer?" "No, we're not making him." "Richard is making him." "Oh, that is such a bad idea." "Trust me." "What are you talking about?" "Well, don't you remember when I was 12 and Mom made me play flag football?" "God, it was horrible." "I was running with the ball in my first game about to score a touchdown and when one of the kids pulled my flag, my shorts came off." "And the thing was..." "I wasn't wearing any underwear." "One time, when I was in seventh grade, my skirt got caught in my..." "Wow, really, I can't tell one story about myself." "I thought it was over." "Go on." "Anyway, so my shorts are down, but I didn't realize what had happened and I just kept running." "And when I got to the end zone, I didn't hear people cheering." "They were laughing." "You see, uh..." "I hadn't gone through puberty yet, and from that day on, they all called me mushroom." "No wonder you hate mushrooms." "Ew." "Now I hate mushrooms." "It was traumatic for me." "I never played sports again." "And I never forgave Mom for forcing me out there." "You don't think Ritchie's gonna resent me for making him play soccer, do you?" "I don't know." "I still have unresolved issues with Mom." "I'm sorry about that." "That is a... a sad story." " Mushroom." " Okay." "Oh, come on, it's funny." "Don't be so sensitive." "It's your little penis." "Come on, guys!" "Come on!" "Well, this'll be fun." "Huh, Ritchie?" "You look so grownup in your uniform." "I just want to bite your tushie." "Christine, he's trying to make friends." "Stop talking about his tushie." " Mom?" " Yeah?" "These shorts feel weird on my tushie." "Great job." "Okay, pal." "Go warm up with your team." "Okay." "Hey!" "Hey, running." "No skipping." "Or hopping." "Why is he hopping?" "Oh, I hope he's gonna be okay." "He's gonna be fine." "He'll have fun." "So where's your boyfriend, Mr. Harris?" "Oh, please." "I don't care about him." "Oh, my God." "There he is." "Holy cow." "Welcome to the gun show." "Did you just give him the up-down?" "No." "So." "All right, I'm gonna go say hi." "I'm going with you." "Hi, Daniel." "Hey, guys." "Glad to see you made it out." "Well, of course, Mr. Harris." "Or should I call you coach?" "You can call me Daniel." "Yeah." "I already call him that." "Right, Daniel?" "Right?" " Sure." " Yeah." "Listen, if you need any help on the field, uh," "I played some soccer in high school." "In fact, we got to the state finals." "We lost, but... it wasn't my fault." "I played great." "Okay." "Well, thanks." "I'll let you know." "I'm not talking candy league." "We were the real deal." "Our coach was Italian." " You wanna see my bicycle kick?" " No, he doesn't." "Okay, well..." "I'm gonna go over there and kick the ball around, if you need me." "Or if you just want to hang out." "Sorry." "He's not usually so... gay." "So what made you decide to let Ritchie play?" "Richard talked me into it." "I just don't want Ritchie to turn into one of those dumb jocks." "Hey, Coach Harris, look at me." "I think Ritchie's gonna be fine." "The team's coed, it's pretty low-key." "I'm just glad you're his coach, you know." "You're not one of those hard-core sports freaks like I had in school, you know?" "They were like, "Run, Christine." "Don't be such a poor sport, Christine." "Put out that cigarette, Christine."" "Catholic school, huh?" "Right." "This is nice." "Talking, joking." "Friendly." "Yeah, we're such good friends." "I could go away for the weekend with you." "Yeah." "I'd shave my legs and bring my good underwear." "So would I." "Uh... yeah." "Well..." "Um..." "I think I'll go, uh, set up my chair." "Yeah, I'm-a go coach something." "Okay." "God, he's been running around for an hour." "Do you think he's okay?" "Do you think he's too hot?" "Well, he ain't too ugly." "What?" "Okay, baby." "Do your thing." "Oh, God." "Will you stop?" "You're embarrassing yourself." "He likes me." "Oh, good, they're taking a break." " Hey." "Having fun out there?" " Yeah, I am." "Oh, honey, you're doing great." "You're running around, you're kicking the ball." "Is that sweat?" "Don't wipe it off." "I wanna see it." "And I made some new friends from the team." "What?" " That's great." " New friends?" "Is it okay if they come over after the game to play?" "Yeah, why not?" "Of course they can." " Cool!" " Yeah, cool." "Told you this would work." "Dads know." "Ritchie's one of the guy's now." "This is what happens when you listen to me." "Mom, Dad, this is Madison, Heidi and Julie, my friends." " Hi." " Hi." " Hi." "Ritchie, Ritchie!" "Where are you going?" "I don't know." "They said it would be better if I just did what they said." "I used to play that game." "Oh, yeah, what'd you used to call it?" "Marriage." "Christine, this isn't working." "I'm pulling him out of soccer." "Maybe we'll try football." "Or prison." "Why?" "He's having a great time." "But the whole point was to get him to socialize with other boys." "No, Mr. Harris didn't specify boys." "He just said "socialize," and he's socializing." "He meant boys, Christine." "You don't know what he meant." "He said "friends."" "Friends can be boys or girls." "Why don't we ask Mr. Harris what he meant?" "Fine, we'll ask him first thing in the morning." "In the morning?" "Good." "I can wear my new shirt." "Okay, you're embarrassing yourself." "Hey, Mushroom." "Not cool." "I have made a decision." "And I second it." "That natural deodorant is not working." "What?" "No." "I, I was gonna confront Mom about the football incident." "Oh, oh." "Confront Mom, you say." "Oh, well, that's, um, that's even better." "I just can't hang on to my anger anymore." "It's not healthy." "Yeah, well, that's not the way our family operates." "We don't talk about our anger." "We hold on to it and push it down until it seeps out in mean and inappropriate jokes at Thanksgiving." "Well, I don't want to ruin Thanksgiving, but I got to get this off my chest." "So what are you gonna say?" "Well, uh, I jotted all my thoughts down." "No, it's fine, it's fine." "All right, try 'em out on me." "I'll be Mom." "Okay." "Okay, just imagine that I've just told some rambling story with no point that's vaguely racist." " Got it." " Go." " Uh, hey, Mom, it's Matthew." " Am I on the speakerphone?" "Take me off the speaker." "You're not on speakerphone." "Why didn't you return my call?" "You called?" "I didn't get a message." "That's because you're not organized." "Did you throw away that organizer that I sent to you?" "Wait, how does she know about the organize" "Don't ask your sister." "I'm sorry." "I love you." "I'm sorry." "Put your sister on." "I'm not here." "Happy Thanksgiving." "I really don't see a problem." "Really?" "I thought the whole point was to get him to socialize." "You know, guys with guys, like you and me." "Yeah, and I said that there's nothing wrong with girls and guys being great friends, like you and me." "It makes sense that Ritchie would hang out with girls." "Uh, they're more mature at this age and Ritchie's a smart, sensitive kid... who does a great cartwheel." "I think it's nice." "Yeah, yeah, that's what I said." "You and I are on the same page." "Well, he and I were on the same page with the soccer, so..." "So?" "So, so, so, so what?" "So he's got more than one page and you're not always on it." "Sometimes I'm on it." "You know what?" "I, I don't even know what you're saying, okay?" "Are we done here?" "'Cause I'd really like to be." " Hey, guys." " Hey." "Ritchie, weren't you supposed to have a playdate with the girls?" "I did." "Well, what happened?" "You want to tell 'em what happened?" "No, thank you." "I was talking to Dad, trying to figure out the best time to call Mom when she wouldn't be in a bad mood." "Oh, yeah, what time'd you come up with?" "Anyway, I left the kids playing in Ritchie's room while I was on the phone, and when I came back, I caught him." "What were you doing?" "I was just playing house with my friends." "And...?" "And I was the husband, so I kissed them." "Ritchie." "All three of 'em?" "Ritchie, those girls are your friends, and you don't kiss your friends, you don't." "No matter how much you want to, you don't." "All right, listen." "Go upstairs and get going on your homework, and I'll be right there." "Okay." "Don't feel bad, it's just nature." "No, I don't accept that." "Listen, Matthew, you have friends that are girls, right?" "Sure." " That you haven't slept with?" " Oh, no." "Wait, one." "Oh, no." "No." "What, the girls are still here?" "You didn't send them home?" "I didn't know what to do." "They're bossy." "They called me Superdork, so I just grabbed Ritchie and ran." "Ritchie!" "Ritchie!" "Man." "All three." "Yeah, because, you know, Ritchie, you're a great kid and you skip to the beat of your own drummer, and I love that about you." "So if you want to play soccer, you play soccer, and if you want to quit, you can quit." "I don't want to quit." "I like soccer." "Oh, good." "And I like having three wives." "Uh, okay, honey, you know what?" "Go out and play, and we're going to talk more about this when you get home." " Okay." " Okay." "Well, look who's the first one here." "You know, at some point, you and your ex-husband are gonna have to figure things out for yourselves or I'm gonna start charging you." "No, no, he's not here." "Good." "You know, I had six hang-ups from him on my caller I.D. at home." "Oh, yeah, you know, he just wants to be your friend." "He's a little nervous." "So how's Ritchie doing with the girls?" "Uh, great." "He's got three wives now." "Uh, you know, maybe we were wrong." "Maybe girls and boys can't be friends." "Sure they can." "Well, I guess, more specifically," "I can't be your friend." "I-I haven't had a single friendly thought about you since the first time I met you." "Yeah, I guess I don't usually practice how I'm gonna say good morning to my friends." "By the way, um..." "Good morning." "That is unbelievable." "I practiced." "Yeah." "I don't usually imagine myself stranded in a ski lodge with my friends, you know, and then the power goes out and we have to huddle together for warmth 'cause a, a polar bear ate our clothes or something." "So what do we do?" "Well, we, we build a fire, and then, um, I find a bottle of champagne, and..." "No, I mean, what do we do now?" "Well, um, you know, you're a teacher and I'm a parent, so, uh, we can never really be more than friends." "And we're not friends." "Yeah." "So I guess we'll just have to limit our contact." "Right." "Yeah, I mean, you know, strictly business from now on." "That's gonna have to go for your ex-husband, too." "He'll be crushed." "And I guess, eventually, we'll get over this." " Right." "Right?" " Right, yeah." "Yeah, I mean, you know, you'll meet someone or I'll meet someone, or, you know" " I mean, chances are you'll meet someone first, but..." "You know." "Maybe not, I don't know, you never know." " Okay, then." " Okay." "I am going to go lie down;" "I'll see you around." "Listen, all I'm asking, is for you to see me for who I am." "I mean, y-you shouldn't have forced me to play sports, and I need you to acknowledge that." "I know it was a long time ago, but I don't feel like you and I can move forward until we deal with this." "Okay." "I'm glad we did this." "Yeah, um..." "That felt good." "That felt good." "So when you get this message, call me back."