Previously on Scott Baio, he decides to propose to the awesome Renee, finds out he’s fertile, freaks out A LOT, gets on my nerves a little, smokes cigars, gets on my nerves A LOT, attends Daddies to Be classes, talks bullshit with his posse, freaks out some more, cries with a sweet but manly nun, endears himself to me with a little Phil Collins, hangs with his hombres, and indulges in some more pre-paternal freaking of the out. Oh, and he had a really crappy man shower Vegas, Baby courtesy of Johhny V.
Today’s the day, y’all, but before we get to that, we have to go through a bunch of other stuff including the tour of the hospital where according to Scott, “Our daughter’s life would begin… and his [sic] would end.” Nice. On the maternity ward they stop to admire the newborns – and ohmigosh I just love newborns. The soft skin, the wizened little features, the poop that doesn’t stink…. They aren’t there nearly long enough for my liking before Scott decides to get light headed because Renee explained what the blue snot sucker in each layette is for. Now we’re in the laboring/recovery suite. Labor/recovery rooms are nice. Very homey. It’s here that Scott has to sit down before he passes out, and it’s here that I start throwing things at the television because why can’t this man for one moment let this experience be about Renee? Remember her? The one actually physically suffering from morning sickness, loosened joints, insomnia, and soon to be abused body. Tool.
The nurse tells him to put his head between his legs then hustles to get him a cold drink. Ooooh! I LOVE hospital ice chips. They’re compact-able so that when you plunge your straw in them repeatedly you get a SA-WEET ice wad to spit at your husband. Good fun there, folks! Anyway, Scott takes this opportunity to apologize for being a jerk, saying it’s just him goofing and Awesome Renee accepts his apology saying that she knew what she was signing on for. Scott really must have some redeeming qualities somewhere that he keeps hidden and pulls out just for her, because given what we’ve been shown, a lesser woman (me) would have been out the door months ago. Then it’s time to check out more of the hospital but not before Scott asks Renee to help him up from the couch.
Out in the hall Scott and Renee meet a new family. Scott starts in on his “I wake up panicked” chorus with the dad and this new dad is sweet about it and reassuring. “Will you still get to play golf?” Scott wants to know. “Nah,” the new dad says. “You want to spend time with your kid.” And you know what, it’s true – at least until they wake up from those first few sleepy weeks. Scott worries that he’s incapable of changing his lifestyle blah blah blah babyfishcakes.
Now it’s time for the Daddies to Be class and Scott says it’s time for Bill to step up to the plate because he’s not getting much out of Bill’s stupid charts. Bill is the crunchy teacher, and I completely agree with Scott on this one. Not only is it difficult for me to go to classes of any kind, it’s twice as difficult if there are charts and droning. And teachers like Bill. (Bueller? Bueller? Anyone?) Today in class Bill is talking about maintaining intimacy during pregnancy and whips out his… poster with blurred out pregnant couples having sex in different positions. It looks like Bill is blushing. Del is afraid of hurting the baby, Dean the glasses guy likes it and it’s working out well for him. Scott shifts around a lot, and I’m thinking that after years of Playboy models, he’s not really turned on by the Earth Mother rotundness of a gestating woman. Even if our hooters are HYOOGE! Then? THen! THEN production cracks my shit up again and starts playing a little Salt ‘n Peppa’s Push It as Bill changes pace and pulls out his… poster of women giving birth.
The reactions are great. Del and Dean look pained, Scott can’t look at it, and all 4 of them seriously look like they’re going to vomit. Then? THEN? Bill scrunches up his face and understates, “It… kinda hurts.” Yes. It sort of stings a little. WHAT THE HELL BILL? “So that’s how it’s gonna happen,” Del says. “The head just gonna slide out.” Like this is news to him. Scott does not appreciate the pictures, but what puts him over the edge is when Bill pulls out his… poster of charts. He basically says that none of this crunchy stuff feels natural to him, that he’s parroting Bill’s words and not really meaning him, that the fact that no one else is freaking out freaks him out even more. He’s not “getting it” (no shit) and therefore he decides that he needs to put on his drama hat and quit Daddies to Be classes. If I were Renee, I’d be pissed. If I were Bill and the other guys? I’d be relieved. I am relieved because it means I don’t have to recap those stupid classes. Thank you Scott Baio. Thank you.
Next we get the dumbest bit of Scott making a clandestine phone call then trying to evade the cameras and then looking guilty as he meets someone in a hotel. Obs it’s Doc Ali, but for a few minutes I entertain myself that it might be Erin Moran or that friend with benefits that he dumped last season (remember her? She’d been having sex with him off and on with no real committment for like the past 11 years?). Anyway, the whole set up is dumb and I’m offended, but because I take my job seriously I soldier on. Just know that I know, VH1. Oh, I know.
So we meet with Doc Ali and she gives him shit for quitting the Daddies to Be class. That’s right Ali! Kick his ass. Scott says he quit because he couldn’t “engage the guy” – and it’s true. Bill was a smoother. A “let’s talk about why you’re upset with me” kind of guy. There were no fireworks with Bill. Plus? Doc Ali has no charts. Ali points out that Scott is missing out on something awesome because he’s so damned self-centered (my words, not hers). She sends him off with the advice to “Get on the ride.” She forgot “Get your head out of your ass.”
Now Scott and his hombres (minus Johnny) decide to go to the tracks where they smoke cigars and talk about baby names. Jason and Steve don’t like Ashley or Lola. Scott says any name of anyone he’s ever slept with is off the table. Sally? Gone. Jennifer? Bought the t-shirt. Basically Scott’s going to have to name his baby after a produce or an ingredient in shampoo because he’s sexed up EVERYONE. Eventually they notice that Johnny V is not among them and start listening to his pitiful text messages. It sounds like Stephen Hawkins with an inferiority complex and a gay crush on Scotty. They decide to go see if Johnny V is well. After the races.
Johnny V lives down an alley and Jason is REALLY short and really funny. “This feels like a drug deal,” he says and makes me laugh and hope he gets his own VH1 special. I don’t care what he’s doing – maybe frolicking with his kids or buying groceries. I’d watch. Because he’s funny. Anyway, Johnny V – depressed, lives like a fraternity brother, eats cat food, unemployed. “I had a cleaning service,” Johnny says. “Were they blind?” Steve asks. I giggle and realize that this is staged, but … whatever. Scott stages an intervention and Johnny feels pushed out of the group. Scotty’s life is changing and Johnny’s isn’t. Scott promises to find Johnny a woman even though he’s retarded. Johnny totally misses the point and deflects with, “Have you heard my entertainment center?” Scott encourages Johnny to “take the ride.” He calls it a metaphor. Jason says it’s simile. Steve says it’s a haiku then accuses Jason of being anti-semantic. I laugh some more. Please give Jason and Steve their own show. And I think it’s a mantra. Take the ride.
Next Scott picks up his step-daughter Kayla from the airport. I like her. She doesn’t take any of Scott’s shit. Then Scott serenades her with Getting to Know You. Stop it Scott Baio. I’m a sucker for a guy who knows The King and I.
Then Scott and Renee go to a hypno-birthing class and I’m jealous. I wanted to try something like that for Olivia’s birth. Not the actual natural delivery thing since I’m all about the pain meds, but I think hypnosis is cool and wouldn’t it be awesome to start quacking like a duck while bearing down? Anyway, Scott’s ready to bolt because it’s new-agey but sees Dean from Daddies to Be class and doesn’t want to abandon him. Or, you know, would like to stay and support his very pregnant fiance. But whatever. They get down to bidness. Instead of pain we say pressure. Instead of contractions we say surges. The dads also have to talk to their babies. It’s stupid. I mean, it was sweet when Jack would talk to the gestating fetuses, but he said protective husband like things like, “Hey, chunk. Stop kicking your mom’s weakened bladder.” But Scott’s all, “I had a salad for lunch. Tuna. You’re more excited to meet me than I am to meet you.” Renee handles it well.
Then the serious helping mom through labor stuff starts and Scott and Renee are instructed to dance (in reality Scott’s supporting Renee’s weight while she kind of loosens up through a painful contraction pressured surge. Then we’re moaning and swaying and then on all fours and making circles with our butts. It’s all very sexual and we’re told by the instructor that boners are good. You hear that y’all? Boners. Are. Good. We’re also told that what got the baby in can get the baby out, and while there might be some evidence somewhere to support this assertion, it has never held true for me. Jes sayin’ is all. And we tried. REALLY tried. Anyway, Scott pops a wood and takes Renee to the car wash for a little make out session. Somewhere between the undercarriage wash and the hub scrub Renee goes into labor.
We make it to the hospital and Renee is not having a good time because having your uterine muscles contract enough to squish a Volkswagon out your cha-cha? It… kinda hurts. At least according to BILL. Thankfully Jason and Steve are in the waiting room to take my mind off how much it hurt before I got my epidurals. They’re placing bets on when the baby’s coming. The clock on the wall tells me it’s nearly 10:00 a.m. and Jason says Baby Baio will be there by 10:50. That surprises me because he’s been down this path before and he knows that it takes FOREVER if you’re not fully dilated. Steve takes the prudent route and goes with 1:00. The cut off they say is noon. Before goes to Jason, after goes to Steve. Jason smells an easy $2500 coming his way. My money’s with Steve. Scott comes out to shoot the shit, then Renee calls him back in so he can tell the nurse that she’s “feeling something.” And here is when I am back in the delivery room with Olivia. Jack was hovering just like Scott is – adjusting the covers and generally BEING A PAIN IN THE ASS because you don’t touch a laboring pregnant woman unless she TELLS you to. I feel ya, Renee.
Their ob-gyn come in and it’s been an hour and things aren’t progressing and hello emergency c-section. Darnnit! I should’ve gone with Jason. Scott and Kayla bond out in the hall in their scrubs while Renee is wheeled to the OR. She gives the thumbs up, and Jason celebrates just winning $2500. I start getting that familiar tight stinging behind my nose and eyes as production plays “Pictures of You” by The Cure and Scott and Kayla head off to be with Renee. “The next time Scott walks out that door,” Jason says a little choked up, “he’s walking out that door a dad.”
Then we’re treated to a beautiful montage of pictures with minimal blood, and Scott Baio cries and I cry and we all celebrate the birth of Bailey Baio. I truly start blubbering when production plays Hymn to Her by The Pretenders. I can’t help it. I’m not made of stone. New babies and pretty songs just get to me. Shut up. And Jason’s right. Scott exits that door a changed man.
Or has he?
I’m tellin’ y’all, next week’s episode looks FANTASTIC as Renee loses her shit.