Episode 8 You're Going to Be Fine

Act 1

Philip: Molly, I need your special talent for handling special matters.

Molly: Like what special matters?

Philip: Well, I have a scheduling problem.

Molly: Yes?

Philip: I have three tonsillectomies set for Friday with Dr. Earl.

Molly: Yes?

Philip: I need to fit a fourth operation into his schedule. And...I know you can do it.

Molly: Who's the patient?

Philip: Carl Herrera. The boy has infected tonsils, and we should remove them as soon as possible.

Molly: Well, I'll try to arrange the schedule, Dr. Stewart. But it's not going to be easy.

Philip: I know you'll be able to take care of it.

Philip：Well, Mrs. Herrera, Carl will be perfectly fine after we remove his tonsils.

Mother: Thank you for your reassurance, Dr. Stewart. He's had so many colds and sore throats recently.

Philip: Well, it's a very easy operation, Carl. You won't feel a thing.

Carl: But when do they do it?

Philip: This Friday.

Carl: But Saturday's my birthday.

Philip: Well, we could reschedule the operation, Mrs. Herrera, but I don't want to put it off too long.

Mother: No, I think it's important to do it now. We can have a birthday party for you, Carl, when you come out of the hospital.

Carl：But it won't be on my birthday.

Mother：But your health is more important ，Carl，believe me.

Carl：I Don't want my tonsils out.

Philip: Nurse Baker, would you come in, please?

Molly:Hello, Mrs.herrea.Hi carl.How are you doing?

Carl：I don't want my tonsils out.

Molly:Come with me, Carl. You and I will talk this over.

Mother: She has a special way with kids.

Philip: She sure does.

Molly: Carl, does your throat hurt?

Carl: Yes.

Molly: OK. Do you want to get better?

Carl: Yes.

Molly: OK. We want you to get better, too. You'll have your tonsils out tomorrow, and you won't get so many colds anymore.

Carl: But if I have my tonsils out tomorrow, I'll miss my birthday party on Saturday.

Molly: I know. It's a problem, isn't it? Let me try to work something out.

Carl: What?

Molly: I have to think about it.

Carl: You're fooling me.

Molly: Oh, I'm not, Carl. Give me a chance to think about it, and I'll come up with something.

Carl: A surprise?

Molly: Maybe. But you just put on your pajamas and robe, and I'll think of a surprise.

Carl: Will it hurt?

Molly: No. There are other boys and girls here, and they're having their tonsils out. You'll meet them.

Carl: I don't want to.

Molly: Change your clothes, Carl. Everything will be just fine.

Act 2

Molly: OK. Do you know how to play charades?

Molly: Frank, you've never played charades?

Frank: Nope.

Molly: Carl, you're sure you've never played? OK, Betty, Tim, and Frank. We're going to play charades. Frank, you can learn as we go. And, Carl, you join in at anytime. OK, let me think. OK, I've got one. All right.

Betty: A movie! A movie!

Molly: Right. A movie. OK.

Tim: Six words. It has six words.

Frank: That's easy. I can play.

Molly: Good. OK. We've got a movie. The title.

Betty: Six words.

Molly: Right. First word...

Betty: Sounds like.

Tim: Sounds like...

Molly: You got that part right. Yes.

Betty: Sounds like...

Tim: Sounds like what?

Frank: Sounds like no.

Molly: Absolutely right, Frank. Sounds like no. OK. We've got a movie. Six words. The first word sounds like no.

Frank: Row. Row.

Tim: Go.

Molly: Nope.

Tim: Show. That's it—show.

Molly: No...OK...

Betty: Snow.

Molly: Absolutely right, Betty. Sounds like no—snow. OK, a movie. Six words. The first word is snow.

Frank: This is fun.

Molly: Oh, OK.

Betty: The fifth word.

Molly: Right, fifth word.

Tim: Seven?

Molly: Absolutely right. Very good. The fifth word is seven. OK, we've got a movie. The first word is snow. Fifth word, seven.

Betty: I got it! I got it!

Frank: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Betty: I got it!

Frank: I got it!

Molly: Carl, now you know charades. Why don't you join us?

Carl: I don't like charades. It's for babies.

Molly: Oh, I like it.

Carl: Well, they're babies.

Betty: You're a sore loser.

Tim: Yeah.

Molly: No arguing. Save your voices. Between now and tomorrow you're all going to have your tonsils out. And you won't be able to speak for a while. So save your voices till then.

Philip: Hi, gang. Hi, everybody. Well, what's going on?

Molly: I sure am glad to see you, Dr. Stewart. This is a rough group.

Carl: I didn't want to play charades, so they're angry at me.

Philip: Why don't you want to play?

Carl: Because I don't want to be here. I don't want my tonsils out.

Philip: Why not?

Carl: Because my birthday is tomorrow. My mother promised me a birthday party with a clown.

Molly: But you can have one when you go home, Carl.

Carl: But my birthday is tomorrow.

Philip: I'm sorry, Carl.

Molly: Carl, you'll have your party when you go home.

Carl: But it won't be on my birthday! And you promised me a surprise.

Act 3

Molly: It hurts, doesn't it?

Molly: You'll feel better tomorrow, Betty, believe me. Only one day, and it won't hurt as much. Do you feel like eating? Having some dinner? Oh, don't look so sad. Let me tell you about your dinner. It's ice cream.

Molly: Ice cream. All kinds of flavors. Chocolate.

Molly: Strawberry?

Molly: Vanilla?

Molly: Vanilla, too?

Molly: I see you're feeling better already, Betty. So you will have dinner?

Molly: OK, honey, we'll see to it that you have strawberry and vanilla ice cream. Just rest now. You need some rest to help you get better quickly. Hi Frank. How are you doing?

Molly: Oh, come on now. You're a big boy. It doesn't hurt that much, does it? Oh, I'm sorry it hurts so much, and you won't be able to have dinner. You're just going to have to have ice cream. Yes, ice cream. Lots of flavors. Want to hear them?

Molly: Chocolate?

Molly: Then chocolate it is. One scoop or two?

Molly: Three scoops?

Molly: Then three it will be.

Molly: You want three scoops also?

Molly: Chocolate, too?

Molly: Well, I see you're feeling better.

Molly: Well, at least you're acting like you feel better. Three scoops of chocolate ice cream for Tim coming up. Hi, Carl. How are you doing?

Molly: I know it hurts. But it'll be better tomorrow. In the meantime, what would you like?

Carl: Surprise.

Molly: A surprise? I promised you a surprise, didn't I? And it wasn't just ice cream, was it?

Molly: Your birthday is tomorrow, isn't it?

Molly: Well, maybe, just maybe, there will be a surprise. But first you have to smile. I just want to see one smile from you.

Molly: No smile, no surprise. That's the deal. No smile, no surprise. If you want a surprise, then you've got to smile first.

Molly: How are you all doing? Well, I'm glad you're feeling better because we have a little surprise for you today. It's Carl's birthday, and we have Popo the Clown to entertain you. And here he is—Popo the Clown.

Philip: Happy birthday, Carl. Happy birthday. All right everybody. OK, Carl. It's your birthday. What's your wish? What would you like?

Philip: Hmm?

Molly: You want to play charades?

Episode 9 It's Up to You

Act 1

Robbie: Who is it?

Philip: Dad.

Robbie: Come on in, Dad.

Philip: I thought you might be hungry. I brought you a chicken sandwich and a glass of milk.

Robbie: I am hungry. Thanks, Dad. What time is it, anyway?

Philip: Ten o'clock. What are you working on?

Robbie: I'm writing a story for the high-school paper.

Philip: Can't you finish it tomorrow?

Robbie: No, I have to turn it in in the morning.

Philip: What's it about?

Robbie: I'm writing an article on the feelings about graduation.

Philip: And...how do you feel?

Robbie: Me? A little scared. And excited, too.

Philip: I felt the same way.

Robbie: The scary part's leaving home and moving to college.

Philip: Oh, leaving home is part of growing up. Well, don't work all night.

Robbie: I don't mind. I enjoy writing.

Philip: Well, maybe you should think about becoming a writer.

Robbie: Maybe I should.

Philip: You have lots of time to decide.

Robbie: That's the worst part—making decisions.

Philip: You'll be OK. Good night, Son.

Robbie: Good night, Dad.

Grandpa: "Hail to the victors valiant, Hail to the conquering heroes, Hail, Hail to Michigan, The champions of the West!"

Philip: Ah, good morning Robbie.

Robbie: Good morning, Dad.

Grandpa: How's my grandson?

Robbie: Fine, Grandpa. Fine! What's all the cheering about? Did the University of Michigan win another football game?

Grandpa: Better than that. Tell him, Philip.

Philip: I just spoke with Charley Rafer.

Robbie: Who's Charley Rafer?

Philip: He's the Dean of Admission for the University of Michigan.

Grandpa: And it turns out he's a classmate of Philip's.

Philip: We were both on the tennis team.

Robbie: Great!

Philip: It is great. He's going to be in New York tomorrow to interview applicants for admission.

Grandpa: And he's agreed to fit you into his schedule.

Robbie: But I may not want to go to Michigan.

Philip: It's one of the best schools in the country, Robbie. I studied medicine there. Your grandfather went to the Engineering School there.

Robbie: I know that, but...

Grandpa: You said you wanted to be a doctor like your father.

Robbie: Not exactly.

Grandpa: You couldn't pick a finer medical school than Michigan.

Robbie: Yes, I know that.

Philip: Let's meet with Charley at the university club. Ten o'clock tomorrow morning. It doesn't mean you're going to Michigan.

Grandpa: It doesn't mean you have to be a doctor. But the interview will be good experience for you.

Robbie: In that case, it's OK. Dad, growing up means making my own decisions, doesn't it?

Philip: You're right, Robbie. But, like your Grandpa suggested, have the interview.

Grandpa: And then make your own decision.

Robbie: That sounds fine.

Philip: I know it's sudden, Robbie, but this is an important opportunity. We'll head down there first thing tomorrow morning. OK?

Robbie: Sure, Dad.

Philip: I want you to know something, Son. I'm...very proud of you.

Robbie: Thanks, Dad.

Philip: Well, I've got an appointment at the hospital. I'll see you all at dinnertime.

Robbie: Bye, Dad.

Grandpa: Is something still wrong, Robbie?

Robbie: I'll be OK.

Grandpa: Going away to college for the first time always makes one a little nervous.

Robbie: I guess so. I'll be OK. I just need time to think.

Act 2

Philip: Sorry, Robbie. Sorry to be late this morning, but well, we've still got some time for a cup of coffee. I can't wait to see my old pal Charley Rafer.

Robbie: Neither can I.

Philip: So you thought about it, huh?

Robbie: Yes, I have, Dad.

Philip: Well, I'm glad. I knew you'd realize that this interview could be an important experience for you.

Robbie: I came to the conclusion.

Philip: That's very wise, Robbie. Very wise. Now let's head off for the city and the university club.

Robbie: Thanks, Dad.

Philip: Thanks...for what?

Robbie: Thanks for hearing me out. And...

Philip: And...?

Robbie: And thanks for being such an understanding father.

Philip: Well, thank you, Robbie. Thank you.

Dean: Philip Stewart! It's great to see you!

Philip: Charley Rafer—you look as young as ever.

Dean: You must be Robbie.

Robbie: Hi.

Philip: Yes, this is my youngest son Robbie. Robbie, I want you to meet one of the best tennis players on the Michigan team—Charley Rafer.

Robbie: Nice to meet you, Dean Rafer.

Dean: Well, are you as good a tennis player as your dad?

Robbie: No, I'm not very good at it.

Philip: Frankly, neither was I. Charley was the star of the team.

Dean: Yeah. Thanks. Well, how've you been, Philip?

Philip: Oh, working too hard.

Dean: Doesn't show. How's Ellen?

Philip: Fine, thank you. And how's Marge?

Dean: She's still giving the toughest English history exams in the school and loving every minute of it. And speaking of minutes, I have interviews until noon, so why don't we get right to work?

Philip: Can you have lunch with us later?

Dean: I'd love to, Philip, but I'm afraid I can't. I'm only here two days, and I have interviews with twenty-six applicants.

Philip: I understand. Well, thanks. I'll wait outside. Good luck, Son.

Dean: Did you bring your transcript from high school?

Robbie: Yes, sir. Right here.

Dean: Thank you. Please sit down.

Dean: I see under "activities" that you've been writing for the school paper.

Robbie: Yes, sir.

Dean: What kinds of articles have you written?

Robbie: All kinds—sports, editorials, theater reviews. You name it, I've written it.

Dean: Hmmm. Well, have you ever thought of becoming a journalist?

Robbie: A professional writer? Not until recently.

Dean: Michigan has a fine School of Journalism.

Robbie: Yes, I know that.

Dean: You seem to have some reservations.

Robbie: I'm a little uncertain.

Dean: It's been very nice talking to you.

Robbie: Nice talking to you, sir.

Dean: One piece of advice. The most important thing is for you to decide your own future.

Robbie: Yes, sir. Good-bye, Dean Rafer.

Dean: Good-bye, Robbie. Good luck.

Act 3

Mike: I had an interview today, too. I had a great interview with Admissions at Columbia University.

Robbie: Really? What did they say? Will you get into the school?

Mike: Well, they didn't say anything for sure. But I figure that with my grades and my personality, I'll have no problem.

Robbie: Columbia's a terrific school. What are you going to do?

Mike: Do? I don't know. I also applied to NYU.

Robbie: You sound excited about Columbia. What's your problem, Mike?

Mike: Indecision. Indecision. It's not easy, and this is an important decision we have to make. What about you? How was your interview with Michigan?

Robbie: The interview was fine.

Mike: It's a great college.

Robbie: It is. My father would like me to go there. He and my Grandpa both went there.

Mike: Great medical school, too.

Robbie: I know.

Mike: You can follow in your father's footsteps.

Robbie: Ah! I'd like to follow in my own footsteps, Mike.

Mike: What do you want to study?

Robbie: I've been thinking. I think I want to study journalism to be a reporter—a newspaperman.

Mike: You do a pretty good job on the Riverdale High School paper.

Robbie: And I've been thinking about it a lot lately.

Mike: Have you discussed it with your parents?

Robbie: No. But I have to.

Mike: OK. Let's talk.

Philip：Hi, son，is everything all right.

Robbie: Hi, Dad. Everything's fine. I was just waiting for you to get home so we could talk.

Philip: Anything special you want to talk about?

Robbie: There is, Dad.

Philip: I'm listening.

Robbie: Well, I know you and Mom have given up a lot to save money for my college tuition.

Philip: We want you to go to college, Robbie.

Robbie: I know. I do.

Philip: But?

Robbie: Well, I've thought a lot about which college, and one of them is Columbia.

Philip: Columbia? Why Columbia?

Robbie: First, they have an excellent School of Journalism.

Philip: They do. And your friends are planning to go to Columbia?

Robbie: That's only part of it. It's complicated. I'll try to explain. Mike and I had a hamburger this afternoon, and we talked.

Philip: Yes?

Robbie: Well, we talked about a lot of things. He applied to Columbia, and his interview was very successful. He thinks he'll be accepted, and he really wants to go there.

Philip: Dean Rafer called me today. He told me he was very impressed with you.

Robbie: He's a nice man. He was very kind.

Philip: He told me you had some doubts about wanting to go to Michigan.

Robbie: Yes. I do. I'm just not sure about what I want to do.

Philip: That's OK.

Robbie: You understand?

Philip: Let me tell you something, Robbie. Something that might be surprising to you.

Robbie: What? Tell me.

Philip: Well, Grandpa wanted me to study engineering, like him. Well, I wasn't clear about my future, but I knew engineering was not for me.

Robbie: What did you tell Grandpa?

Philip: The truth.

Robbie: Then you're not upset about my not wanting to go into medicine?

Philip: I'm not upset at all. I'm just happy that we're able to talk about it.

Robbie: I am too, Dad.

Philip: I suppose you want to apply to Columbia.

Robbie: Yes, but I also wanted to apply to several other colleges.

Philip: I thought you wanted to go to Columbia.

Robbie: Well, I might want to go to Columbia. But I might not. I just want to be able to make my own decision.

Philip: You're a real Stewart!

Robbie: And if I think about it long enough, you never know...

Philip: Never know what?

Robbie: If I make my own decision, I might choose Michigan.

Philip: Robbie, you're something! You know, when I was your age, I said exactly the same thing to Grandpa.