Wilma points out that Homer just got out of the hospital.
“Yes, I know,” says Mr. Cameron, “but a few months from now, the same opportunities won’t exist that exist today. You might think about my business, Homer: insurance. We’ve taken on a number of veterans. They make very good salesmen, you know – – men who have suffered from some kind of… disability. Come down to the office one of these days, and we’ll talk it over.”
Homer reaches for a glass of lemonade that his mother offers from a tray. The glass slips out of his prosthetics and falls on the floor.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” says Homer.
“Oh, that – that’s quite alright, Homer,” says Mrs. Parrish. “It won’t hurt the carpet a bit. Luella, you just get out to the kitchen and get me a dishrag.”
Mrs. Parrish turns back to her son. “There’s another one for your, Homer. Wilma will hold it for you!”
“No, thanks,” says Homer, standing up. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go out and walk around a bit.” He leaves the living room.
Wilma stands, watching Homer leave.
Luella returns with a dishrag, and begins wiping up the spilled lemonade.
“Where’s Homer?” asks Luella.