Lynette hobbles home, her work heels clearly killing her. Her hair is very "bedhead," and she looks tired, tired, tired. MAVO: "When Lynette went back to work, she was aware her new job would be demanding. What she hadn't anticipated was the night shift." Lynette turns on the lights in the kitchen and is greeted with an unholy mess. The milk is out, half-empty glasses are strewn everywhere, food is all over everything, and there is evidence of boxes that formerly contained pizza and "Kitchen Fresh Chicken" box. Oh Mr. Mom Tom! You are so messy and nutritionally retarded.
Much later, Lynette comes to bed, and Tom says he thought he heard her come in a full hour ago, as in, what has she been up to? Lynette, it seems, has been busy loading the dishwasher. Tom says she didn't have to do that. Lynette: "Yeah...I sort of did." Tom says he's sorry that he's "sort of fallen behind on the housework." He cites the many errands he had to run today, etc., and then says he'll make up for it tomorrow. Lynette's eyes are closed and she looks as though she's just about to head off to sleep, when Tom adds, "That's the beauty of my system. It's flexible." Lynette's eyes spring open: "You know, for the sake of our marriage, please don't mention the system again." And then, with a startled "what the hell?" Lynette sits up. Apparently, baby Penny had a little "spitty-uppy" at the foot of the bed, under the sheets. What was she doing, stuffed way down there? Or was the bed stripped down to its fitted sheet when Penny barfed, and then Tom made the bed on top of it? In any case, through some gross miracle there's vomit made into the bed, and Tom has done nothing but spread a dishtowel over it. Lynette is disgusted, but Tom points out that the towel is very clean. Tom: "It's just a little spit-up, a little milky spit-up on the sheets. Please, I made a judgment call, now please respect that." Lynette says that she will not respect it since it is stupid. And, I think, something Tom wouldn't have allowed if the vomit were on, say, his side of the bed. Tom puts his foot down: Lynette is not changing the sheets! Tom says that this altercation "is not about spit-up, it's about control," which, he points out, is one of Lynette's issues. Lynette: "Why are you fighting so hard to sleep on baby vomit?" Tom is fighting for a principle. Lynette: "Being too lazy to change the sheets is not a principle." Tom tells Lynette that she is not going to win his one: "So you better crawl back into bed." But Lynette still has some fight left in her! She yanks off the sheets (and in this shot, the bed looks virtually vomit-clear) and tries to tear them off with Tom still lying there. They wrestle awhile, and it looks almost fun, but it's clear they're both enraged. Lynette gives Tom some parting blows with her pillow and then moves out to the couch, where she sits on one of the P's trucks. Dirty, messy, vomit-lover Tom! MAVO: "Normally, Lynette would have spent a sleepless night telling herself that she didn't have control issues." Lynette turns on the television, and some rat-infested movie is on -- Ben maybe? The movie gives Lynette an idea of how to, as MAVO puts it, "bend Tom to her will." She sits up with glee and alertness and watches as many, many rats converge on some guy in the movie. The scene fades along with the man's screams.