Porsha has volunteered to babysit for Phaedra’s boys so that Counselor Parks can attend to her personal bidness. Porsha is ready for her “dry-run” at practicing single parenthood, but Mr. President and his sidekick Dylan are giving her a run for her money. Porsha orders they put on their “Pajammy jams” and get ready for bed, but Mr. President Ayden is a shrewd toddler. He negotiates some additional playtime, a new toy, an extra story, a bedtime snack, and a 529 College Fund. Probably the funniest moment is when Porsha thinks she has misplaced Ayden, but he is actually hiding behind a chair changing into is pajammy jams so that he won’t be exposed on camera. You would think Bravo could muster up a small black modesty box that would cover his whole being. When Counselor Parks returns from the salon after getting her polish change, Porsha collapses on the couch and runs through the seven stages of single parenting, disbelief, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, and finally acceptance/hope. Porsha admits she may need a partner to help raise a family. It takes a village, or at least a willing ex-boyfriend with a mega-watt smile!
Later, Porsha brings Todd to her mother’s home for a family dinner, Todd is on the menu…hop on da’ grill young man! Todd is extremely quiet and sporting his best perma-grin, he seriously looks like he just rolled out of Snoop Dogg’s man cave. Lauren gets the full dirt on Todd – he and Porsha dated a few years in their early twenties, Todd was fresh out of a relationship when he got the text from Porsha, and he has two sons, 16 and 14. This is like a scene out of the Bachelorette where the family grills the jumpy suitor – but Todd proclaims he would gladly start a family with Porsha because he loves her. Porsha is floored that Todd was first to drop the L-Bomb and it is usually she who is the aggressor, all the way to the restraining order phase of the relationship. She is working her new anger management, patience, and act like a normal woman skills – they are paying high dividends!
We have learned that li’l Ayden didn’t want to be exposed on camera, however another housewife son has no problem baring all. Kairo is in the makeup chair and stage mom SBS sprays him down with Pam cooking spray – he is ready rock the photo shoot and assemble a portfolio for his impending modeling career. Bob and his crazy eye waddle in – seriously, what is up with this guy – he walks like he has a janky knee and a trick hip. Bob pretends to be horrified and covers up Kairo with his white embroidered western wear shirt – careful Bob, Pam cooking spray will leave a nasty stain! SBS is happy that her ex showed up to support their son, but she is firm in her position of “Momager”.
Later, SBS and Kairo request a professional evaluation from Cynthia Bailey – owner of the Bailey Agency for wayward models. Cynthia can’t take her eyes off of Kairo and asks to see his abs, drop down and give her 20, and strike some serious Blue Steel. Cynthia is so overwhelmed by his smokin’ hotness, she is sweating like Bob Whitfield! SBS thinks Kairo is ready to walk at NY Fashion Week, after all SBS is the expert – she can throw a fashion show with no clothes. Cynthia laughs her middle-aged model ass off and cautions SBS to slow her momager roll.
It may not hurt Cynthia to have a new client by way of Karo, she also learns that her offer of $940,000 on the new lake house was accepted! Cynthia is thrilled, she prayed for a tub like the one in the lake house, where she can soak off the greazy film of her marriage.
Sidebar: Cynthia’s real estate agent, Flavia, called to give her the news and I could have sworn Cynthia said “Labia”. Not sure that is worth mentioning, but it sure gave me a chuckle! Could you imagine… Anyhoo – the Bravo paychecks are keepin’ her dream alive for now, but now we wait until Papa Smurf files for spousal support. MMM HMMM, betta make those coins, gurrrrrl!
On the Kenya Moore front, she is safely secured inside Moore Manor, except for the area where Matt kicked out the IKEA grade glass from the garage doors. She calls her father on her iPhone, which Matt apparently also smashed, and she gives her father the update. Papa don’t take no mess and his ass is on a plane to ATL as they speak – First Class PUH-LEAZE!
Ronald arrives and we get a better look at Moore Manor in its finished state, which I have to say is quite nice. She has one of those really cool, modern, abstract light fixtures that are so expensive I cannot bring myself to buy one. Anyway, she pretends to cook dinner by way of some frozen Trader Joe’s meals and Ronald is on an anti-Matt rant and points out each painfully evident fact about how the relationship is doomed. Kenya’s face keeps falling with each sentence he utters – she expresses probably one of the worst things a woman can about a flailing relationship, “he has potential”. Don’t do it Miss USA – do not fall in love with a man’s POTENTIAL! Just like we learned last week, good fried chicken don’t pay da bills, and neither does potential!
Kenya and Ronald arrive at a cigar bar and wait for Matt to arrive, but after 30 minutes he is still a no show. No show. No pay da’ bills. Kenya’s shattered iPhone reflects the status of her relationship – Matt is not coming and his li’l thumbs of fury needed to send 17 irrational text messages to convey that simple thought! Kenya rings him up and Matt says he isn’t coming because he feels manipulated. Kenya warns Matt to watch his tone and he hangs up. Now Ronald is pissed, and he’s HONGRAY!
Matt finally strolls in, wearing his best Garanimals from the “Where’s Waldo” collection and proceeds to tell Ronald that Kenya doesn’t respect his boundaries – he is not about to be her li’l beyotch. Ronald lectures both of them about “give and take”, but ultimately tells Matt he is going to have to accept Kenya’s crazy twirling and lack of baseboards in her home or get into his truck and put the pedal to the metal!
Now, let’s get down to the real reason we all slogged through the last 43 minutes of this shit show…At the Kandi Koated Factory, Kandi is conveniently having a meeting with her shade-throwin’ staff when Phaedra’s assistant calls to set up a dinner meeting. The staff looks confused, Don Juan asks “what the goallllll?” Kandi gives them the bomb threat briefing and of course they all rally around the woman signing their paychecks and agree that Phaedra’s version of the bomb threat story is bullshit. Kandi speculates that the “bodyguard” hired by Phaedra is actually her new boyfriend and the bottom line is that Kandi isn’t cool with the continual inconsistent stories. Sidebar: Kandi looks smokin’ in her purple dress – it must be the victorious radiance from casting all the shade on her former BFF.
Over at Phaedra’s office, she receives a visit from Drama’s mother to discuss the bomb threat. Phaedra was upset about all the “sensationalized” stories that went around the ATL and she is angry with Kandi for not reining in Mama Joyce when she said that Drama “wanted to blow you the f*ck up!” Not too much to see here, but Drama’s Mama looks like she’s seen some thangs…#ifyaknowwhatimsayin’!
The final showdown takes place at Katana Teppanyaki and Sushi, where the wait staff wear plaid lumberjack shirts. The two former besties start goin’ at each other right out of the gate and they both have a laundry list of grievances against one another. After they run through the good ol’ standards…Mama Joyce, Todd, Sexual Chocolate, and beyond… Kandi feels that Phaedra milked Apollo’s incarceration to garner sympathy, when all the while she had been telling Kandi she couldn’t wait for his power-drill wielding dumb ass to be gone. Further weaving her tales of woe, Phaedra tells Kandi she may have loved her more than her huzzzband, but Kandi isn’t down with melting in Phaedra’s hands or her mouth. Um…EWW! They decide to bid each other goodbye and best wishes, Kandi makes a swift exit, while Phaedra remains seated and pretends to peruse the menu, hmmm….Rainbow or Seattle Roll?
Next time – Cynthia shows her boobs, SBS shares the rumor about Phaedra skippin’ around on Apollo before he want to jail, and Kandi is mad about something, again.