Susan is pulling clothes out of the dryer and wringing Julie for gossip about Karl. Susan: "Your father actually told you he was going to be having a one-night stand with Edie Britt?" Julie: "Uh, mom? This wasn't a one-night stand. He's actually been going out with Mrs. Britt for a few months now." Aww, she calls Edie "Mrs. Britt"! Julie is a delightful, polite-ful teenager. Susan, who you may recall is just seven years old, starts screeching at Julie for not telling her about Karl and Edie before now: "How could you not tell me that? We share everything, that's what we're known for! That's our thing!" Julie confesses that she didn't tell Susan because she knew she'd "wig out" just as she's now doing: "Besides, haven't you always taught me to respect other people's privacy?" (Oh, you know, like when Susan brought Julie along to stalk Mike?) Susan: "Oh I'd never apply that concept to your father's sex life, and you know it." (Hold on, is Susan saying she wants her daughter to poke around in her father's sex life and then report back with all the gruesome details? Ew.) Julie asks if Susan's done yet, but she is not. Susan needs to scream and stomp some more about the "peroxide vulture" that is Edie Britt who, Susan is convinced, went after Karl just to spite Susan. Julie: "Wrong again...he asked her out." Susan: "You lie." (Calling her daughter a liar? Just another brick in the wall that separates Susan from being a nurturing parent.) Julie: "It's true: he called her six months ago, the day after my birthday party." Susan, with dawning discomfort: "The one at the piano bar?" Julie notices that Susan's screeching has been replaced by a sudden and suspicious angst. She asks what gives, and Susan fumbles around, muttering something about how Karl came over that day, and said some things, things that she didn't, can't, and won't tell Julie. Julie: "Wait. Whatever happened to 'we share everything'? Isn't that our thing? What we're known for?" Susan: "Actually, I think we're known for sharing clothes." Susan shakes a tank top she's just folded as an example of the kind of clothes those two share, and then she throws the dry, folded tank-top back into the empty dryer and slams the door.