Lynette is hustling the kids into bed. The Ps all balk at the idea, but she reminds them that she and Daddy have a "special meeting" tonight, which causes all the kids to collectively yell, "Ewww!" Wow, do the Ps know what "special meeting" means? Ewww! Tom comes in and starts sorting the...mail (which I am now beginning to believe is some kind of foreplay on Wisteria Lane). Lynette tiptoes into the room and tackles him from behind with the full force of ten unsexed days. "Whoa," Tom says, looking confused until it dawns on him that, right, this is the time of their physical-relations appointment. He asks her to give him a second to let the office wear off, and then he immediately drops the mail and says, "Okay I'm in!" He turns and sweeps Lynette into a big kiss. Still kissing her, he lifts her up onto the back of the couch, but then he pulls up short. Lynette wonders what he's thinking, clearly with the idea that whatever's on his mind must be good indeed. But no, he was just wondering what that smell is. "Probably baby drool," Lynette offers, and tugs off her shirt, revealing a wife-beater tank underneath. "There, now you have easier access. Woooo!" she yells as she topples back over the side of the couch. They continue to kiss, until Tom pulls back again, all, wow, that smell really soaked through, huh? "That is the nature of baby throw-up," Lynette lectures matter-of-factly. "You want me to wear a HAZMAT suit, or are you going to be okay?" No, no, Tom assures her, he's going to be fine. It's just that...he likes it when she's all clean and in her "sexy clothes." Uh oh, Tom. Careful there, good buddy. "Ha ha ha," Lynette barks, not at all amused. "I don't own anything clean and sexy. Everything is either covered in baby spit or chunks of melted crayon." Lynette accents every other syllable of this speech by slapping Tom's shoulder with his tie. Lynette: "You make me feel like I just got off the shrimp boat, for god's sake." Tom: "It's just that, you know, guys sometimes like it when women, you know, put a little effort into things." Annnd...say goodbye to sex tonight, Tom! You idiot. Tom tries to sweep Lynette's not-at-all-pleased look off her face with a request that they just go back to kissing again, please, and Lynette gives a very sigh-ful "fine," but then the baby starts to cry. The other Ps start joining in, yelling "Mom!," and Lynette pushes Tom off her and heads upstairs. Tom rolls onto the couch, alone, looking almost as frustrated as Lynette. Eleven days and counting!