Because Corey was struggling to pull his serious pants on, Leah decided she wanted back into Jeremy's. The only thing that stands between her and getting her engagement ring back from the ex-fiance she dumped for her baby daddy is ... all that stuff. Does anyone else just picture Jeremy quietly climbing into an underground lair to live like a mole-man when he's not a) on the pipeline or b) running back to Leah? She calls him over and, without looking at him or attempting any facial cues that mean "I like you, I am glad you are here," she apologizes for the nightmare she's put him through.
Though she's in the wrong, there's something hostile about her little speech, almost like she's daring him not to give in. She explains that she can't ride on the Corey roller coaster anymore which, to be perfectly honest, makes Jeremy sound like the trashcan you barf into afterward and then feel so thankful for. It's not that you didn't love the roller coaster and want a second ride -- it's that it didn't love you back. (Sorry for all this carnival imagery, my boyfriend just brought me some cotton candy and I'm having a real moment.)
Turns out, Jeremy's been carrying the ring around in his pocket since he was brutally dumped a few episodes ago. No, I mean he's literally carrying it totally loose in his cargo shorts, probably taking it out every few minutes so that his tears can shine it up good. Leah's expelled two human beings from her body -- but we all know Jeremy's the biggest pu*sy around.
Later, Leah confides in her sister Victoria. Victoria suffers from devastating Less Attractive Sister disorder, and the only thing more busted than her face is her ability to string a sentence together. They have a special "breakthrough" wherein Leah realizes that her father's absence in her life made her fight hard to keep Corey in her daughters', but Victoria doesn't push her to link that back to how she eventually ditches Corey for Jeremy. It's like an Oprah
"Ah-Hahhh oh Wait ... No, Maybe/What?" moment.
After a tumultuous few days, Leah, Jeremy and Corey prepare to see each other face-to-face. They are, per usual, posing for another cover of 'Divorced Parents in Awkward Situations With Trucks' magazine. This time, though, Corey is outnumbered. Handing his girls to their mom and future step-dad is painful, and he doesn't stick around for small talk. (Not that he's ever attempted medium to big talk.)
Never one to jump into something she's not ready for, Leah asks Jeremy if he wants to buy a house. I really wish these girls would acknowledge that they are paid to be on a reality show and quit pretending they are broke, even when they make pricey moves. Before Jeremy can weigh in, though, Leah's talking about getting married on the beach in a few months. "You know when you know. I thought I knew when I knew, but I shouldn't have gotten married. I was trying to stop the wedding the week before. I am ready to start new," she explains. Nothing about that makes any sense, but Jeremy, all wrapped up in the moment and glad that he's not being dumped again, seems totally content.
Though school's out for the summer, Kailyn's never truly off: She's still working at the mall and keeping a small human alive. Luckily, she's got sweet Javi by her side -- and lately, she wants him there all the time. Though she doesn't want to "jinx it," she's eager to have a talk about living together. "I'm 20 years old and I'm not getting any younger" she jokes to her friend while I silently dry-heave and mourn my lost youth. God, what was I doing at 20? Oh yeah, just graduating a year early from college and not being pregnant. Point: Sydney.
As the temperature heats up, Isaac's "look" goes cold. Poor, poor Isaac. Kailyn's stuffed him in the toddler swimwear version of mom jeans. They come way up to his belly button and don't do a thing for his bum. Still, the excitement of going to the pool beats the embarrassment of looking like a 2-year-old Walmart shopper any day.
But wait. The lavish Olympic-sized pool I pictured is actually a tiny, plastic green thing on the front lawn that Javi fills up with approximately 1 pot of water. Why not save yourself the trouble and just put Isaac IN the cookware? It's about the same amount of fun, and you're conserving water/saving the planet in one fell swoop.
Still, the warm-and-fuzzy section of Kailyn's brain is on fire, and she can only see what my cold, dead heart overlooks: the extremely sweet gesture for her son. "So I'm thinking it's the right time for you to move in," she says carefully.
Gosh, can you imagine what she'd offer him if he had actually FILLED UP the pool? Insta-wedding and a VIPenis ticket to Club Ovaries, I bet. Javi is overjoyed, and they both decide that Isaac's down with the plan, so they make it official. Kailyn's ready to take a dip in sin city ... and Jo better never try to follow suit. If there's one thing we've learned about Kailyn, it's that anytime Jo does the *exact* same thing as her, it's somehow Michael Jackson bad.
I'm typically pretty nice to Kailyn because I just feel so sorry for her. Yes, there's plenty of things she needs to control better: Her temper, her jealousy issues, her attitude toward Jo. But it's what she can't change that gets me. Her mother and father are completely out of the picture and totally uninterested in her. She's got nobody looking out for her, no role models or supporters without piercings or pizza stains on their shirts. Yes, I know plenty of people have gone it alone. I know absentee parents abound. But I'm choosing to cut her some slack ... except when it comes to her skin. You don't need parents to call for Proactive, Kail.
Finally it's time for Javi to move in, and he comes bearing two rolling suitcases like he's checking into a hotel. "Welcome home!" Kailyn chirps as she makes no effort to move any of her stuff or give Javi his own space. Then she tells him he can pay for groceries and electric and should be prepared to get married soon. No pressure.
Are we all on the same page that 'Truks-N-Trykes' is the most demented name for a daycare? In what universe is a mother like "Hmmm, this place where they apparently mix large vehicles with little limbs sounds like the number one safest choice for my toddler." Either way, Aubree's loving her time at Tiny Rednecks of America -- it's just momma Chelsea who's constantly throwing a fit.
The pressure of her impending move has really gotten to her, and it's got her wondering if perhaps she really needs to switch cities or states instead of homes. "Everywhere I go, I see Adam. Everyone I see tells me about Adam, 'cause they saw him out," she explains. It's impossible to get over your past when it's eating chicken wings around every corner.
At beauty school, Chelsea struggles violently on her first test. In her defense, I have absolutely no idea what the lady administering the exam wants anyone to do. It's something about cutting hair but having a lot left? If Chelsea was a scientist, it would be more difficult than trying to confirm the existence of the Wigs Boson (you know, the particle that proves there's makeup in the universe?)
After butchering her mannequin's trim, the head actually comes off the stand. Still, she must have some natural talent, because she manages to get a 90. Apparently, a completely lop-sided 'do can also be considered a "blunt cut." It's not the best look for poor mannequin, but she stays quiet, unlike any other female on this show.
Chelsea and her school friend Nic (gonna go out on a limb and say he's not a potential suitor) meet her mom for an apartment search. Chelsea almost pulls a muscle walking up a flight of stairs, because her workout program, "Maintaining Your Fat," hasn't prepared her for movement beyond eating and snacking. Though she's not sold, she admits that she doesn't really have a choice. A secure, stable home for Aubree is what matters at the end of the day -- and her dreams of leaving South Dakota behind are too lofty at the moment.
Tonight I heard Jace speak for the first time. He said "twooo wafsle," which I am pretty sure is either a request for two (2) waffles, or a commentary on how frustrating political waffling on an issue as divisive as climate change can be for a toddler.
Though it's obvious that Jace is growing up quickly, Jenelle is far too busy preparing for her glorious exit from the prestigious Itty Bitty Titty Committee to visit her son. She's also having a hard time deciding between a different set of boobs: Kieffer and Gary. Though Kieffer's been
freeloading living with her, her ex Gary's been calling again.
Because Jenelle probably went to a plastic surgeon she found on Groupon, her surgery takes place in what looks like a drive-through ATM, and she's all done in two hours. I'd also like to point out that some doctor, after reviewing Jenelle's medical records and lengthy history of substance abuse, actually said "yes" to an operation that requires round-the-clock pain medication.
Back at home, her friend tucks her in by throwing a blanket in her general direction and Kieffer helps her relax by smoking in her face and playing on his Boost mobile phone. As someone who has had (and loves!) plastic surgery, I can tell you that this sort of care doesn't do much to speed up the healing process unless you're trying to augment your chances of being rushed back to the hospital. As someone who knows (and loves!) Boost mobile, you actually can only text drug dealers and prostitutes. It's in the fine print.
Eventually Bahhbrahh decides to help Jenelle, so she leaves Jace with boyfriend Mike. Apparently Bahhbrahh has forgiven him for the little incident with the Hootah's waitress and all is right with the world again. Hopefully Jenelle's new gazongas won't bring back too many painful memories for Bahhbrahh. After all, I assume a perky set played some role in her aforementioned breakup.
Jenelle informs her mother that a muscle relaxer has "relaxed all her muscles" ... and then the doorbell rings. "Somebody sent flowwahhs, how nice," Bahhbrahh says happily. Gary sent a bouquet of roses with a card that says "stay strong, sweetheart," but Jenelle's roomie smartly keeps them from her, lest Kieffer realize that Jenelle's been two-timin' from her sick bed. Bahhbrhh seems pretty impressed, and Jenelle, through her medicated haze, seems to be weighing her options. Uneasy hang the boobs that wear the surgical bra, you know what I'm saying, Shakespeare?
Jenelle eventually kicks Kieffer out and heads to her mom's place to recover. (It was quite literally the war of the roses.) Kieffer tells a sob story about how he "dropped everything" to be with her, as if there was every anything in his life worth picking up. "She completely left my heart on the dirt and doesn't care," he admits to a friend. Well what do you expect, Kieffer? She can't bend over for at least four weeks!
"Teen Mom 2" airs Mondays at 10 p.m. EST on MTV.