In the pub kitchen, Tadhg has just screwed the knob that fell off the cabinet door last time back on, and when Frances arrives and asks what he’s doing, he explains that he wanted to “fix this door so that it closes properly,” which he demonstrates by opening and closing the door repeatedly. We will ignore the fact that the repair he has just performed has absolutely nothing to do with the proper operation of the hinges, although Frances makes it difficult by pointing out that she’s been asking him to fix that for years. She asks what’s come over him, and he eventually stammers that he’s doing it because he’s giving her half the pub, which clearly comes as a huge shock to her. If her brain were operating normally she would immediately realize that you fix up the place before putting it on the market, not before declaring that you’re now giving someone half of it in an abstract sense. She smiles, and he goes off to repair some skirting board, which, given how DIY cause-and-effect seems to work in this house, will presumably fix some problem with the dishwasher.
At the café, Dee tells Frances that Tadhg’s being quite generous in giving her half the pub because if it went to court, she’d probably only get a quarter of it since it’s property he brought with him into the marriage. It’ll seem less generous when they find out he’s giving her the bad half, which includes the broken toilet, the store room, and Annette. Frances says that his recent good behavior—fixing things, giving her half the pub, not farting as he walks past her chair—leads her to only one conclusion: he wants to get back together with her. Dee asks her if she’d take him back after all he’s done, and she’s like, “Well, he is Áine’s father, and she’s heartbroken without him”—which of course means, “yes, in a heartbeat!”—and for some reason it does not occur to legal whiz Dee that he’s obviously doing repairs to put it on the market, or at least to value the place so he can buy Frances out. In her defense, Dee is less of a real estate and divorce attorney than she is a human trafficking attorney, so I guess she can’t be expected to know everything.
Mo is at home going through the post when she discovers an official-looking letter from the hospital. You can tell it’s important because the postmark is from four months ago. Anyway, before she can open it, Gráinne comes bounding in and starts carrying on about St Brigid’s Day, which is apparently the day St Brigid rides through the streets on a raft and gives seaweed to all the good little boys and girls. It’s possible I’m only semi-paying attention to this. Eventually she gets to the point of her visit, which is that she wants Mo to go down to the shore with her to collect seaweed for the wedding, because everything can always be traced back to seaweed with her. Mo replies that this does not sound like something she would be interested in, kindly implying she means “right now” as opposed to “ever,” but Gráinne wears her down and she finally gives in. I’m sure Labhrás would declare it a St Brigid’s Day miracle that Mo is able to decipher what the hell Gráinne is saying given her atrocious grammar.
Berni is chasing Bobbi-Lee down the street begging her to visit and possibly murder Máire with her, but Bobbi-Lee doesn’t understand what the big deal is if Máire tells everyone in town, because it would be better if the news got out anyway. As they say with vomiting, “Better out than in.” Right on cue, Máire materializes, at which point Bobbi-Lee makes a quick exit, although I would’ve guessed she’d want to watch this trainwreck and possibly also film it and put in on YouTube. There’s a brief farcical misunderstanding in which Berni thinks Máire knows about her and Briain but it turns out Máire is actually talking about…actually I have no idea what the hell Máire is talking about, but it seems to have something to do with her wetting her pants at a furniture store. I don’t know. Eventually it comes out that Evan spent the night at the B&B because he claimed he’d lost his keys, but Berni’s relief is once again short-lived as a commotion reveals that Evan and Briain are punching and choking each other in the street. There is a lot of running around and screaming, and when Máire demands to know what this is about, Evan spits that she should ask Berni before storming off with her on his heels.
Sadly, rather than cutting to the seaweed harvest we all want to know more about, we follow Evan and Berni down the street, and there is more running and screaming. She starts to tell him, “I realize there’s a bit of an age difference, but…”, but sadly we never get to hear the inevitably hilarious end of that sentence because he interrupts her to say this is all gross, and he’s going to be the laughingstock of the football team when this gets out. Well, last week we discovered that there are only four people on the team, two of whom are Evan and Briain, so it could be a lot worse. Berni, typically, is more concerned about ensuring that Evan won’t tell anyone about this than she is about his feelings, and when he finds out that they think they’re in love with each other rather than just shagging, he storms off in disgust and disbelief. I sense that there’s a giant ultimatum on the horizon, and we’re headed straight for it.
After the break, during which those two women trapped in the elevator are still beating each other senseless over a Chicken McNugget, Adam arrives at Gaudi and hilariously asks Pádraig, “So, is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Pádraig makes a bunch of excuses, causing Adam to roll his eyes so far back in his head he can see his brain, and then Pádraig explains that his advice to Adam about Fia and Liam Óg last year was based on his own experience, and his not wanting Adam to make the same mistake he did. Of course Sam has wandered up and hears this last part, and after Pádraig tries to convince him he misheard and/or misunderstood the part where he called him a mistake, Sam angrily announces that he wants to go see his mother and stomps off. This is why you should always put a little bell around children’s necks, so you can hear them coming.
Tadhg arrives at Maggie’s, where she is beating her laundry on a rock by the river and churning her own butter. He tells her that he offered Frances half the pub as they’d discussed, but that instead of the gratitude they were both expecting, her response was more of a “Feck you, you fecker, I’m taking the whole damn place!” Maggie suggests that if that’s what Frances wants, maybe they should just give it to her, which goes over about as well as you’d expect it to. She says she’s got plenty of money to support them for the rest of their lives, especially since Frances will be murdering them any day now, but he says his name is over that door and will remain there, at least until the place mysteriously explodes in the season finale.
The War of Passive-Aggression has broken out over at Tigh Thaidhg, where Frances has switched the radio from the usual Skiddle-Diddle-Dee FM to Radio Ride of the Valkyries. Tadhg orders Bobbi-Lee to switch it back, and she’s caught in the middle for a while until smoke starts coming out of the radio and she tells them both to cram it. Tadhg insists to Frances that this is his pub and they’ll have the music he wants, but she replies that this is her pub, too, and that the classical music is part of her plan to attract a new clientele, which also includes a new color scheme, knocking down the walls, and turning the place into a Nando’s. Finally! Tadhg vows that this place will start serving mouthwatering Peri-Peri chicken with your choice of two delicious sides over his dead body, so Frances says they’ll just have to go to court then, where a judge will almost certainly order them to sell the pub and split the proceeds. Wait, so you’re saying there won’t be sweet potato wedges?
Over at David & Pádraig’s Tiny Tots Daycare, Learning Center, and Kebab Hut, we join a big argument between Pádraig and Sam, already in progress. Pádraig is still trying to convince him that he misunderstood what he heard earlier because he and Adam were speaking, umm, Romanian, which sounds a lot like Irish, except that the word “mistake” actually means “blessing.” Sam tells him to pull the other one and then shove it up his arse, so Pádraig tries to explain that Sam is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, apart from maybe all the new clothes he got this season. There is back-and-forthing, and Pádraig finally says that he never wanted to leave Sam, and that he’s thought about him every single day since he left. There’s discussion of a photo Pádraig has kept of him and baby Sam at the beach, and Sam snots that he doesn’t remember any trip to the beach and therefore Pádraig is a liar, because of course Sam has the superhuman ability to remember everything that ever happened to him since birth.
At home, Berni purses her lips and ignores a call from Briain, and we also discover that she has the most annoying ringtone in the world. We then cut to a pained-looking Tadhg sitting in his car, which is pointed at the front door of Tigh Thaidhg. He pounds on the steering wheel and curses, but sadly does not floor it and drive into the pub at top speed, which would have made this the BEST EPISODE EVER.
Back at Pádraig’s, he’s produced the inevitable box of Sam memorabilia and is showing all the bits and bobs to him, such as the photo of the two of them at the beach, Sam’s baby shoes, his first dirty nappy which Pádraig has had bronzed, etc. Pádraig tells him the story of their day at the beach, with swimming and building a sand castle and riding a porpoise and so on, and it’s a really nice moment between the two of them. It kind of feels like the first time there’s really been a connection between them, although you can see the gears turning furiously in Sam’s head, and when he excuses himself to go to bed, you can tell he’s having seriously ambivalent feelings about all this.
It’s the middle of the night, and a sleepy-eyed Sam strolls into the living room in his pajamas and picks up the box of memorabilia. He takes a long look at a photo of his mother holding him as a newborn, and the photo of him and Pádraig at the beach, and then he gives a tiny smile that suggests he may be rethinking everything he thinks he knows about his dad. It’s funny, Sam seems so grown-up and speaks so thoughtfully and reasonably that you can almost forget he’s still a child until you see him in his little dinosaur pajamas.