Casa Infantus Giganticus. It's the middle of the night, and the baby is crying. Gabby and Carlos argue over who's going to get up and deal with things. Carlos bitches that he has a number of job interviews tomorrow and needs his rest, which on one hand is pretty reasonable, and yet...if that's the case, maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to prevent Gabby from hiring a nanny? At least until they could settle into a routine and Carlos was on more of a predictable schedule? Gabby and Carlos bicker and bicker, until finally he snaps that with Xiao Mei the Money doing all the housework, Gabby's only real responsibility is to take care of the baby. Gabby yells "fine" a bunch of times, and then she gets the baby, and takes her into Money's room. With a promise that Money won't have to "do windows" tomorrow if she'll just look after the baby tonight, Gabby crawls into Money's bed, tells Money not to breathe a word of this to Carlos, and closes her eyes. A terrified Money starts to sing softly to the baby, and Gabby irritably snaps at Money to take the show downstairs. Gabby is an awesome mom.

And speaking of going downstairs, Bree...walks downstairs to find Eleanor sitting in the living room, doing her hair. More specifically, she's combing and spraying the red wig that's sitting on a styling head on the table, which is more than a little weird. Oh, just Eleanor and her head, sitting in the darkened living room together, like Bobby Hill and his plastic white female head/girlfriend. Bree sits down, and without the sugar-coating of a preamble, Eleanor informs her stepdaughter that she and Gramps (Bogamil, not the grooming head) are taking Andrew back to Rhode Island with them, per Andrew's request. Bree puts her foot down, and Eleanor, with syrupy sincerity, compliments Bree on her long-standing stubbornness: "When you were a kid, you used to make these peanut butter cookies that were god-awful. But you kept baking them. And you kept forcing everyone to eat them." Bree, with a shark's smile, informs Eleanor that her real mother loved those cookies. Eleanor: "Well, some people praise children even when they don't deserve it." Bree faux-gushes that Eleanor never gave false praise. Eleanor, absently fluffing her wig head with a pick, says that Bree just always resented her for her "high standards." Bree: "No, I resented you because those were kick-ass peanut butter cookies." Eleanor brings the conversation back to what they're really talking about: she looks Bree right in the eye and tells her that they're still going to take Andrew. Bree, who's upset now, begs Eleanor not to take him, but Eleanor says, "He hates you, Bree. Your own son." And then she tells Bree that "part of being an adult is admitting that you failed, and then moving on with grace." Bree, sad, sad, so sad: "Do you really think that I'm a failure as a parent?" Eleanor: "I'd love to lie and say something supportive, but as you pointed out, that was more your mother's thing." Wow, happy birthday, Carol Burnett!