We opened last night at a demolition site. Operation Chateau Sheree was in full effect, which meant lots of Sheree in combat genie pants clomping around in stilettos to the beat of underwater techno music. “Next time you come to my job site wear tennis shoes,” her appealing contractor suggested. But one does not suggest things to She by Sheree. “This is my job site and I may make you wear heels next time,” she scolded. The Chateau will be a grand one: A circular driveway with a fountain. An 8000 square foot house with a library full of books with uncreased spines. A skating ballroom, masseuse quarters, a DJ playing Angry Birds on his iPhone in the party lounge. Anything will be better than the little dollhouse with the porcelain throne being toppled in front of her. 1975 architecture is so gross. “I was barely born then,” said Sheree. Her contractor paused for a second but spared his life when he said nothing in response.
Elsewhere Ayden, who is in fact the cutest 11-month-old human on our planet today, waved his hands in the air and sucked from a bottle of water. Phaedra went with her hot pink sweat suit—her donkey rump stamped HIS—for the morning. What a difference 11 months make. Gone are the threats of whuppings and back slaps. What Ayden wants, Ayden gets, much to the exaggerated chagrin of his peevish father. Apollo is testier this season, in need of both a nap and a splash-down. He was annoyed at Phaedra, though for the life of me I’m not sure for what exactly. Apparently Apollo’s candy red car got pulled over by a SWAT team and someone put a pistol to his head. But when Phaedra was alerted about the matter and called to check in, he told her it was all good and he was just at the office reacquisitioning things or whatever it is he does. So why did he lie? “I had to tell you I was at work until I could get to the bottom of what was going on,” he said. So what was going on? I don’t know. You don’t know. I’m not sure Phaedra knows. But whatever it was, and judging from their bizarre evasiveness I’m guessing it was more than just a case of mistaken identity, Phaedra and Apollo definitely don’t want to talk about it. So stop asking questions Ayden.
You know how Mauricio always wins when people ask who’s the hottest husband on Real Housewives? Well I’m going to go ahead and declare Leon, the father of Cynthia’s daughter, the hottest ex. My God, that man. I just replayed the scenes of him hugging his daughter and sitting on the kitchen counter over and over. Put that crabby ox Peter, who was huffing and puffing some nonsense about not being good at partnerships and not giving a flying ___ about Cynthia’s mother and sister, on mute and watch Leon in slow mo. Bravo, somehow arrange for Leon to have some scenes with his daughter in a swimming pool. As a Christmas present, maybe?
NEXT: Gregg shows up in a fedora.