This one is all about Pete and Debbie, who, along with their two daughters, occupy a big white house in one of Los Angeles’s nicer ZIP codes and who, in the course of a hectic week, undergo — well, what, exactly? A matched set of midlife crises? A rough patch in their marriage? A flurry of “first-world problems” so trivial as to be an insult to the planet’s struggling masses? A seminar in postmodern, postfeminist gender politics? Yes, sure, all of that, but to drop their troubles into such neat conceptual boxes would be to simplify a situation that is both agreeably and annoyingly messy.