Bree is scrubbing down the kitchen when in come Andrew and Danielle. Apparently, Mommy Phyllis is leaving, and Andrew wants Bree to go talk to her. Bree, frantically cleaning, says she's not at all interested in talking to Mommy Phyllis, in light of the horrible things the woman said to her. Andrew: "Look, I'm sure she was a real bitch, okay? But she's family. That makes her our bitch. Let her say goodbye to Dad." Bree -- looking insane, by the way, and not just because she's wearing all black topped with a flowery apron and navy blue rubber gloves -- says, "She went out of her way to be cruel to me. I don't want her at the funeral." Spritz, spritz, spritz goes Bree with the cleaning fluid. (Wait a second, what's that I spy in the background? Yes, Bree and I have the same coffee maker! So...I've got that going for me.) And now suddenly Danielle bursts into the conversation, her face all crumpled, her mouth a gaping wail hole. "Mom, if you don't let Grandma come, I will never forgive you!" she shrieks. Andrew looks at his sister with total disgust: "Did I ask for your help?" Bree looks as though she's been slapped, and Andrew reminds her that Rex would have wanted his mother there. Wow, who would have thought that it would be Andrew who'd be the first to think about what Rex would have wanted?
Bree resignedly takes off her gloves and walks into the front room, where Mommy Phyllis has piled her eight million matching brocade bags. In a voice shaking with emotion, Bree says, "It's true, Rex and I did not have the perfect marriage. But for eighteen years, I tried my very best, and for that I'm entitled to your respect." Mommy Phyllis readily agrees. Then why, Bree wonders, did she say such bitchy things? "I guess I thought it would be easier to be angry with you," Mommy Phyllis confesses, "than to be angry at Rex." Mommy Phyllis's lips start to tremble: "What was he thinking, leaving me?" she asks the fates. Sad! Bree melts and says, "I do want you to come to the funeral." Mommy Phyllis's face cracks with relief, and she sighs and admits how much it means to her, being allowed to go. Mommy Phyllis walks toward the stairs, then she turns and says, "Someone should get my luggage." Bree looks at the mountain of bags and wonders if, perhaps, she just got duped somehow, some way.
Lynette is racing around, about to leave the house for her second interview, when she discovers Tom lying on the floor. He threw out his back, it appears, holding one of the Ps upside-down. Lynette quickly grabs his feet and shoves them toward his chest, which creates a small crunching sound. Lynette: "How's that, better?" Through clenched teeth, Tom reveals that it is actually not better: "Can you push the interview? 'Cause I don't think I can take care of Penny like this." Lynette: "Don't do this to me, I don't have time to make a phone call, and I promised that woman that I would not let the kids interfere with this job." Tom says, "Well that was a stupid promise," and earns himself another painful leg pump. Lynette: "Remember that time when you were away in Tucson and I had a 104 fever but I still managed to take the kids trick-or-treating?" You know, Lynette has a point. Tom is clearly in pain, but he's still able to talk. Surely he could call around and get one of the neighbors to help out for a few hours? I mean, if his back had gone out after Lynette had already left, what would he have done? He would have figured something out, right? Lynette drops his legs, and Tom grunts painfully. "Tom, being a mom is like being an ER doctor: there are NO DAYS OFF! So get up!" Lynette does some motivational clapping: "Get up!" Tom strains and twists. "Jeez," Lynette says, "are you crying?" "Just a little," says Tom in a small, sad voice. Lynette stands there looking frantic, and then does an "oh for god's sake" and grabs Penny. And there she goes! She's bringing baby to the interview! "Give 'em hell, honey!" Tom yells after her. You suck, Tom.