Um…say WHAT?

Tracy: Well, did it ever occur to you, if you’d been a better son, he might have been a better father?

I never thought I’d say this, but:

FUCK YOU, TRACY.

Lucky Spencer is far from my favorite character. In fact, there have been times over the years when I actively disliked him. But the one thing I would never have said about him, even at the height of his most assy, controlling douchebaggery, was that he was in any way a bad son.

But I guess Tracy must be the expert on child raising, right? I mean her own two sons have such a great relationship with her…oh, wait. Nevermind.

So how exactly is Lucky supposed to have wronged Luke? By not growing up to be a con man? By not reacting with grace and understanding to the news that his father raped his mother? By having the bad taste to get kidnapped and lose a year of his life because one of his Luke’s old enemies?

You know, I really don’t have any desire to revisit the rape revisited any time soon — especially without Laura on the scene — but it does strike me as particularly disingenuous of the show to continually have Luke acting like he has no Earthly idea where he went wrong with Lucky. Like he doesn’t know the exact moment he stopped being a hero in his son’s eyes. The exact moment Lucky made the conscious decision to never grow up and be like his father.

YEAH, THAT’S A REAL PUZZLER, LUKE.

There’s a wealth of Spencer story potential here, between Lucky’s gradual disillusionment with his father and all the reasons why, the leftover effect of the lost year and intense brainwashing he suffered at the hands of Helena and Faison — which has never been fully explored by the show, IMO — and Luke’s complete denial about all of the above. If I thought the writers had any intention of delving into all that, I’d be ecstatic.

Instead, we get crap like this, and from out of the mouths of characters I normally enjoy, no less. Ugh.

Screw you, show.

despair-divider

Fortunately, there is a silver lining.

Whenever the rest of the show is particularly egregious in its suckitude, I like to go to my zen place:

gh31109180-vi1

I swear, Rebecca Herbst is so goddamn gorgeous, sometimes it almost hurts to look at her. (Okay, that’s a total lie, I could stare at her all day.)

Hell, even little babies are mesmerized by her effortless prettiness. I feel you, Emma. I really do.

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