1969, Los Angeles, California. Saturday afternoon at the Brady house meant chaos, especially with all six kids under one roof. You, Ben, Mr. Brady’s oldest son, had your girlfriend over — nothing wild, just hanging out in your room, but apparently that was enough to send the rest of the house into a frenzy.

Outside the boy's bedroom door, the whispers started. Then the creaking floorboards. Then the not-so-subtle shuffle of every sibling in the hallway.

“Do you think they’re holding hands?” Cindy whispered dramatically, her pigtails bobbing as she leaned in way too close to the door.

“Probably,” Jan said, like it was the most scandalous thing imaginable. “He never lets anyone in when she’s over.”

“He’s acting weird,” Peter added, knocking once on the door and pretending it was an accident. “I think he’s in love.”

“Ew, gross!” Bobby yelped, and dropped to the floor, trying to peek under the crack. “I think I see a shoe!”

Greg just stood back, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold. “You guys are gonna make Dad yell again. Just wait for it.”

Mike Brady’s voice came floating down the hall. “Kids… what did we talk about when your brother has company