While Keith, 37-year-old grown-ass man that he is, whimpers near-silently, they go at each other. It's not really Virginia Woolf territory, since this show's too smart to even try and reach that high, but it seems to take itself very seriously. Mary makes fun of our nation's losses in Iraq for awhile ("Caught some shrapnel in Korea, came this close to being a lady!") and suddenly she is asking for a divorce and thanking Bree for the idea, and then everybody runs around like chickens and McCluskey's like, "Pssh, and you didn't wanna come."
Paul is nervous about his stuffing, but Beth assures him it's "yummy" and "not too dry" and all those other things these people talk about on a seemingly constant basis. Turns out Beth and her Unnamed Mother didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, due to her Daddy leaving when she was young and Momma deciding there was nothing left to be thankful for. One time she invited a little boy named Danny Sullivan over for Thanksgiving, but decided to spring this on her mother at the last second.
Instead of sending her upstairs hungry for being a terrible hostess and a shitty table guest, Felicia screamed at her daughter about how men are only after one thing, and then made her daughter sit downstairs and listen to him knock on the door over and over. So instead of really having a sensible issue or upbringing, or giving Felicia an actual personality, apparently we're just "Anything A Mom Ever Did In A Movie." One of those childhoods. A sort of Sibyly-Carriey-no Thanksgivingy kind of deal.
Paul notes that Beth's mother sounds fucking crazy, and Beth's like, "Yeah, I never noticed that, actually." Paul asks -- and I think maybe he knows and has known this whole time what is going on -- why they've never met, and Beth's like, "Because she is fucking crazy?" Paul assures her that at least they both love her, and Beth sort of melts and says that this is the first Thanksgiving and the best Thanksgiving because she finally has something to be thankful for: A convicted murderer, conspirator and kidnapper.
There is this absolutely unending thing where Susan steals the baby and the twins don't even notice because they're watching TV but then Lynette immediately figures out where Susan is so she goes to her house and the twins haven't noticed that the baby is gone but then the baby reappears and Lynette searches high and low for Susan, who is just the worst, and it's like if somebody told you about the Marx Brothers, but you never actually saw a Marx Brothers movie, and then you had to recreate them. It combines all the slapstick, emotional neediness, mental acuity and falling over that you've grown to love so much about watching Susan Delfino in action.