Susan's house: Susan rips off her blood-donation band aid with an "ow!" (And really, the Foley people went a little crazy with the flesh-tearing sound effect here -- what did the nurses use to tack down that cotton ball, duct tape?) Julie walks in and tells Susan that Dr. Young called, and he needs to see her for a follow-up exam. Susan: "He 'needs to see me' or he 'wants to see me'?" Julie: "Jeez, Mom. How cute is this guy?" Susan: "Oh. He could be cuter...but I don't know how!" Mom and daughter giggle girlishly. Julie encourages Susan to ask him out, but Susan says he's too young. Susan: "Let's just say, if I was a senior in high school, I'd be saying, 'Wow, you're a hot fifth-grader.'" Julie scoffs. Susan role-plays how it would go down: she'll tell Dr. Young he's hot and he'll call her "ma'am" and change the topic to Susan's "hip replacement." Julie: "Mom. You're hot and funny and nice and...clearly desperate. And guys are into that. Play to your strengths." It's really true, guys love women who are desperate. LOVE THEM.
Lynette pulls up at home, and before she can even get out of the car, Tom (looking tense, tense, tense) scuttles out to meet her. Lynette frantically asks him what's wrong, she got a message that there was an emergency, and she called and called but only got the machine. Lynette rushes toward the door, but Tom doesn't follow her: He refuses to go inside. Apparently the boys were sent home with chicken pox, and the way he says it, it's clear he thinks he's delivering some scary, scary news. Lynette: "Chicken pox? That's the emergency?" Tom: "They're CONTAGIOUS!" (As someone who actually contracted chicken pox as an adult, I actually sympathize with Tom's fears. Adult chicken pox is so ferociously bad, oh my god. I had pocks in my hair, on the palms of my hands, the soles of my feet, all over my gums. EVERY-where. I couldn't count them all, but on my face alone I had twenty-six. Twenty-six oozing, pus-filled nightmares. And they were huge -- I called them "my candy corns" -- and the heinous red marks they left behind took six months to fade. So if you ask me, Tom is brave for even standing anywhere near that house of infection. Really he should miles away, taped off in a bubble, and scrubbing himself clean with bleach and sandpaper. The end.) Tom explains that since he's never had the pox upon him (meaning he's susceptible) and she has (meaning she's immune), that she has to be the one to take care of the kids, "just for a couple of days." Lynette: "It is not the Ebola virus, it's chicken pox. Quit being a baby." Tom stubbornly reminds her that if she thinks he's "being a baby now," then clearly she doesn't remember how bad he is when he gets sick. A look of dawning horror crosses Lynette's face. Tom: "Remember that time I had strep throat? We ended up in marriage counseling." Lynette relents. "I'll call the office," she says as she heads inside the house. Good thing Lynette's Bossy Boobs got the ax, because she would have freaked out if Lynette had stayed home from work to look after her sick kids.