ƒnƒCƒ‰ƒCƒg‚Í"what's done is done."

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How I met your mother ƒV[ƒYƒ“6yŒ´‘čzCleaning House

Barney: Ah... Valentines. The second base of third grade. I always got a Valentine from every single girl in my class.

James: Funny how all these girls have the exact same handwriting as the Postmaster General, Mom, and... home run king, Frank Aaron.

Barney: Yeah, school girls... The more they ignore you, pretend to hate your guts, lock you in the coatroom over winter break, the more they secretly like you. This isn't... Who's Sam Gibbs?

James: No idea. Why?

Barney: Mom addressed this and never sent it.

James: What's in it?

Barney: Hey. It's a picture of you and me when we were little kids.

James: On the back, Mom wrote... "Your son."

Loretta: Okay, everyone, lunch is ready. Who wants Sloppy Joes?

James: Mom, who's Sam Gibbs?

Loretta: That doesn't sound familiar. Who wants Sloppy Joes?

James: There's a picture of me and Barney in an envelope addressed to him. And you wrote "your son" on the back.

Loretta: Oh, no, that... It says "Yourson." For Yourson, North Dakota. That's where we took the picture. Lovely town. We went kayaking, and you two rescued the mayor's dog, which had wandered into the rapids. That mayor, Sam Gibbs, asked for your picture so the city could make statues of you both. I guess I never sent it. That's embarrassing. Now, how about those Sloppy Joes?

James: If this picture was taken in North Dakota, then why is our old swing set in the background?

Loretta: I don't know! I did my best as a single parent, and it wasn't always easy, and I'd recommend putting the coleslaw right on top of the Sloppy Joe, because it's delicious that way!

James: Can you believe her?

Barney: I know. Forgetting to send the photo. That poor sculptor had to work from memory. Those statues probably look nothing like us. Damn it, Mom!

Robin: So, Ted? You were worried that I oversold you to Liz. Well, I fixed it.

Ted: How?

Robin: I sent her another email. "Dear Liz. I hope it didn't sound like I was trying to oversell Ted. The truth is, he is a genuinely nice, down to earth guy, and I think you two would really hit it off."

down to earth Œ˜ŽŔ‚É

Ted: Thank you. Thank you. That's perfect. That totally takes the pressure off.

Robin: "Is he going to rock your world in bed? No. But he's clean, open to criticism, and not into anything too weird. He's not bad at all. Not bad at all."

Ted: See, now you went too far in the other...

Robin: "I'll be honest. The first few times aren't going to be that great. He's going to say 'Are you finished?' more times than a waiter in a busy restaurant."

Ted: Stop!

James: Listen to me. There is no Yourson, North Dakota. And Sam Gibbs wasn't the mayor. He might be one of our fathers.

Barney: Well, he's not my dad. My dad's Bob Barker.

James: Barney! You... You've got to stop living in these fairy tales that Mom told us! Bob Barker is not your father. Sam Gibbs might be, but Bob Barker is absolutely, unequivocally not your father.

unequivocally ‚Í‚Á‚Ť‚č‚Ć

Marshall: I suppose you have a problem with the Easter Bunny, too.

Lily: Not now.

James: This address isn't too far. Are you coming with me, or not?

Barney: So we're doing this? We're really going to go disturb the peaceful Long Island retirement of the former mayor of Yourson, North Dakota on a Sunday afternoon? Real classy, James. Real classy.

go disturb ˘˜f‚ˇ‚é

James: You're just too scared to face the truth. You're living in a dream world.

Marshall: Maybe we shouldn't have brought these Sloppy Joes.

Lily: Oh, what's done is done.

Ted: "Ted Mosby is solid as a rock." No. "Dependable." No. "Rugged." No.

Dependable M—Š‚Ĺ‚Ť‚é Rugged ŒľŠi‚Č

Robin: Why don't I just go to the Chevy Web site and copy down adjectives?

adjective Œ`—eŽŒ

Ted: I just want to hit that perfect middle ground.

Robin: How about we just go wildly to both extremes and just let them balance each other out? "Ted Mosby is really handsome, but extremely violent, and really rich, but lacks bladder control." Oh, damn.

Ted: What?

Robin: That last bump just made me hit send.

Ted: Oh, no.

Robin: Don't worry. I'm sure that everyone will get it's a joke.

Ted: No, they won't. They're going to think... Wait. "Everyone"?

Barney: "Really rich"?

James: You ready for this?

Barney: For what? I don't know who lives here, but it's not my dad. Wait. Wait. Please, stop. Just... just give me a second, okay?

James: I thought you said that he...

Barney: Stop.Come on. I know Bob Barker's not really... you know. I'm not crazy. I just... I needed that. I know it may sound stupid, but I didn't always feel so great about myself growing up, and so having a celebrity dad made me feel special. But you're right, James. It's time to let go of the fantasies. It's time to grow up.

let go of ‰đ‚Ť•ú‚Â

James: Come here.

Sam Gibbs: Can I help you?

James: Yeah... you're Sam Gibbs.

Sam Gibbs: Yes.

James: I'm James Stinson, and, I think you may have known my mother, Loretta Stinson... in the '70s.

Sam: Loretta! Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, I... I knew Loretta.

James: My mother meant to send you this.

Sam: You're my son.

Lily: God, this must be so hard for Barney.

Marshall: Yeah, but you know what? He took a big step today...

Barney: Papa!

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