You may notice from the TV Recaps page that The Real Housewives series are just about the only shows dedicated enough to the medium of television to continue on their quest to share art and culture with the masses throughout the holidays. And as their viewers, we are nothing if not Bravo warriors. So, still home for the holidays, I watched The Real Housewives of Atlanta last night; I watched as they pumped their breast milk mid-conversation, as they burst into tears during the second course of every meal, and as they took shots with drag queens.
My mother, however -- a proud Georgian woman herself -- couldn’t watch with me. She could only listen in, as she cooked dinner in the kitchen, just out of view of the TV. Her occasional inquiries are scattered throughout this recap in brackets (I consider it nothing short of a blessing that my grandmother and father were both napping while Porsha screamed, “You don’t never need to come face to face with a vagina like that” in our family den).
The ladies wake up in Savannah, after last week’s rare happy ending, to cook breakfast together and have what seems to be the first non-producer-mandated seated meal of the season. They’re all dressed in a variety of jewel-toned loungewear and full false-eyelash makeup. After a revealing chat about phone sex (Porsha has a tattoo on her nether regions…the more you know!), Cynthia brings up my favorite 13-year-old non-aardvark, and yours: “Mr. Arthur.”
Nene starts yah-yahing about not agreeing with Cynthia’s decision to let Noelle date The Littlest Boyfriend, but everyone agrees it’s harder with teenage girls than boys [Mom: Are they always this loud? Me: Generally, louder.] Phaedra, as always, states it most concisely: “I am so thankful that I have boys because with a boy you only have to worry about one ding-a-ling; with girls, you have to worry about everybody's ding-a-ling.” I am currently happy not worrying about anybody's ding-a-ling, but I fear the day I have to consider the mental state of a hormonal 14-year-old boy.
Suddenly, Cynthia is breaking down in gasping sobs, black eye shadow everywhere. The editing and interviews try to make it seem like it’s because Nene’s teasing about how crazy teenage girls are these days is too harsh [Mom: Aw, are they not being sweet to her? Me: Sometimes they just inexplicably weep.], but really, I think Cynthia is just going through something. For some reason, Porsha and Kenya – ranked Housewife #5 and #6 on an alternating basis – follow her upstairs to console her through her breakdown. Cynthia says, “I’m never not thinking about what that little girl needs from me” and, I’ll tell you what, I got a little misty. Being a mom seems super hard.
Kenya reassures Cynthia that just how much she cares means she’s a good mom, and Porsha tells her to breathe, wash her face and put her smoky eye back on. Those, ladies and the one gentleman that might read this (Hi, thanks for reading!), are what we call priorities. Porsha and Kenya then proceed to have a heart-to-heart because the producers must have suddenly realized these women have lost the audience and Mynique isn’t exactly a viable season 7 replacement. They bond over their desire to have children and Kenya tells Porsha about how her lack of relationship with her mother has affected her hopes for having children in the future. It’s nice that they make amends and, like Porsha, I might be adding Kenya to my prayer list, but really, is anyone trying to watch this ragtag pairing in the future?
NEXT: Phaedra finds a surefire way to end a conversation with Kenya...