The twins are supposed to come to camp dressed in a Rock ’n’ Roll theme.
C: Daddy, what could I wear?
D: Um… (One of the few unattractive parts of Papa might just be a touch country, but neither Daddy nor Papa is a little bit rock ’n’ roll.) I don’t know. We’ll have to think about that.
A last-minute morning rush ends with the twins back in their 1950’s getups, Cory by choice, Fisher only after considerable cajoling. (The temperature is expected to climb to around 90 degrees, so, in his defense, a black leather jacket isn’t all that appealing.)
D (behind the camera, out front, for a picture): Now, guys, try to look at least a little bit rock ’n’ roll. (Click.) You sort of look 1950s.
F: What should we do?
D: Um…play a guitar…smash a guitar…something like that.
A few minutes later, they are back in position, the ukuleles that Grandma and Grandpa got them a couple of years ago at the ready.
D: Okay, guys, bring it!
Sandy, still in her poodle skirt, wails on her uke, while blonde Zuko, hair too short to spike, faux-smashes his. It’s the most rock ’n’ roll this house can muster in a pinch.