"Brothers & Sisters" Episode 301 Recap: “Glass Houses”

Hello, my brothers! And the handful of sisters who found their way here from AfterEllen.com.

Welcome to another season of total BS.

First off, you’re probably wondering what happened to your regular recapper, the indefatigable Dennis Ayers. Unfortunately, after two seasons of meticulously recapping this show, he got a wee bit obsessed and had to be sent into Brothers & Sisters rehab.

"Ojai Foods is people - they're eating peeeoople!"

Right now, Dennis is locked in a padded room and being given electro-shock treatments while forced to drink red wine, eat canned vegetables, and answer call waiting. If that isn’t enough to get him off B&S, the doctors are planning on sending in a perky blonde girl to make out with him and say, “I’m your sister! I’m your girlfriend! I’m your sister and your girlfriend!”

In all seriousness, editorial responsibilities require Dennis’ full attention, so he’s taking a recapping breather. I know we’ll all miss his recaps, but fear not: I think we’ll be able to persuade him to fill in for me anytime I’m too hungover to write coherently. Which means you should be hearing from him quite often.

Onto the recap proper. I know that of the many storylines left open-ended after last year’s finale — discovery of another illegitimately sired Walker half-sibling, Holly’s hostile takeover of Ojai, Kevin and Scotty’s failure to get in the night of mind-blowing post-wedding sex they were entitled to — of all these stories, I know the one that’s been most preoccupying us all summer long is how Kitty’s adoption plan is working out.

So I know you’ll be as relieved as I am to see that this is the very storyline with which we kick off Season Three.

“Dear Birthmother,” Sarah narrates.

“Bring alcohol,” I bellow to my partner Mark in the kitchen. “I think I’m going to need it … And possibly a box of Yodels.”

For the benefit of anyone who’s never seen this show before and inexplicably decided to pick it up after two seasons, Sarah’s voice-over introduces the various Walkers and extols their many virtues, presumably as a means of recommending Kitty as a prospective parent.

Sarah: A Walker dinner is a sight to behold! The love just radiates, and any new baby would be welcomed into this joyous scene with open arms and hearts.

Hey, Sarah, here’s an idea: why don’t you write about the time your drug-addict younger brother taught your 7-year-old daughter the right way to use a needle? Or when the child’s potential grandma got busted for getting high in the parking lot? What birthparent wouldn’t be touched and delighted by charming family stories like these?

Obviously, Sarah’s letter is a load of crap. And it’s to this episode’s great credit that it knows this.

Because while she’s speaking, we see this hilarious, picture-perfect family get-together in artsy slow-motion, where they’re all hugging and grinning like idiots and gathering around for a meal like they’re in a commercial for the Olive Garden. My favorite part is that, even in what’s clearly meant to be a rose-tinted depiction of the perfect family Sarah imagines a birthmother would want to hear about, the Walkers are still guzzling bottles of wine. Even their fantasy-versions of themselves are total lushes.

Kitty knows it’s a load of crap too, as we discover when it’s revealed that she’s been reading the letter to herself all this time. She complains to her husband, Senator Prettyboy, about how it’s six pages full of “blah, blah, blah” that she thinks Sarah bought off the Internet from “schmaltzfest dot com.” Heh. I love when shiksas use Yiddish.

Robert: More likely she sat down one night, cracked open a bottle of Merlot, and kept writing until she lost consciousness.

And what if she did, Prettyboy? If it works for writing recaps, there’s no reason to think it can’t work for writing adoption references.