Carlos is home from his harrowing visit with Hot Mom. Gabby asks him how it went, and he lies that all he did was drop off her luggage; that's it. And then he leans in and gives her a huge, huge kiss. Gabby is pleased, but puzzled. By way of explanation, Carlos tells her he's been thinking that maybe adoption isn't such a bad idea after all. Aww! Gabby: "But I thought you wanted a kid with your own DNA?" Carlos looks away -- far, far away -- for a second, andthen tells her, "Blood isn't everything." See that? Nice! I love Carlos and Gabrielle this episode, yay!
Lynette comes out with the trash, and there, there is the ubiquitous Mrs. McCluskey. "I heard you lost your kids yesterday," she tells Lynette, a little gleefully. Lynette tries to downplay the whole episode, but Mrs. McCluskey isn't going to let this prize of an opportunity go. "Help me out here," she says to Lynette, all casual. "What exactly is it you look for in a babysitter?" Lynette is all, "???" And Mrs. McC is more than happy to fill her in: "I may be ancient like you say, but I've never gotten drunk and lost track of three kids." Lynette is still confused, so Mrs. McC lets her in on the fact that she "smelled wine on Bree" when she was running around looking for the kids, not to mention the fact that Bree spent the entire previous night lounging out on her own front lawn. Lynette tells Mrs. McC to "spread her poison somewhere else," and Mrs. McC gives a little shrug: "I just thought I'd do you a favor and let you know, that's all." Mrs. McC goes back to her yard, pausing once to look over her shoulder at Lynette. The look of righteous indignation on Lynette's face wavers just a hair.
When Bree heads out with her own trash (this neighborhood is really good about remembering trash day), Lynette heads over for a visit. She starts out nice enough, asking if Bree's gotten over yesterday's unpleasant events. Bree: "Truthfully, I haven't been able to get my mind off of it." And you know something, she does look haunted! Lynette starts in marveling over how the kids managed to make their escape, and the two women agree that boys that age are "escape artists." Lynette nods, uh-huh, uh-huh, but then she pulls the rug: "It's just: Penny...I mean, I just don't understand how Porter and Preston managed to wrangle her into the stroller and make it out the front door without you even noticing." Bree drops her bags of trash into the can, and they make that tell-tell cascade of "clinks," which Lynette clearly catches. Lynette suggests that maybe, just maybe, Bree fell asleep? Bree trots out her "cleaning the kitchen" excuse.