Lane waddles into the apartment to find her husband and her mother cooking together in the kitchen. Every woman's nightmare! Oh my God, I just got the shakes. "Welcome home, babe!" Zach and Mrs. Kim call in unison, excitedly pointing out all the stuff they bought together at the natural market. Lane is irritated by their over-concern about her diet, and goes on a rant about all the baby-crazy customers at the diner. Zach ignores her, of course, sitting down on the couch and making her put her feet up so that he can rub them. As a brief aside: I learned from an acupuncturist last week that rubbing a pregnant woman's lower legs, ankles, and feet is actually not a good idea, since it allegedly stimulates labor. Take it with a grain of salt, though, because I also learned that there is a pressure point on the shin called "Stomach 36." Hey, I'm not turning up my nose -- there are a billion Chinese people for a reason, after all -- I'm just saying, that's funny. Mrs. Kim and Zach continue to torture Lane about vitamins and bladder control until Lane absolutely melts down and has to whip out a giant candy bar to soothe herself. She gets even more upset when she sees that Zach and Mrs. Kim have set up a large crib where her drums used to be. "You put my drum kit in the CLOSET?" she yelps, and sways over to pull open the door, yelling that they need to have band practice. "Well, if you want," says Zach, "we can call Gil and Brian, but...can you even play?" Lane gives him the laser eyes of rage, snarling, "I. can. play." Zach wisely shuts up: "Okay, cool."
At Weston's, Lorelai and Rory are having no luck carrying out their candy cane coffee tradition. Despite melting three candy canes in her coffee, Lorelai can barely taste the peppermint. She is incredulous that the restaurant would stop selling Christmas coffee the moment Christmas was over, and throws up her hands, saying that they'll just have to go Christmas shopping. Rory sees what's really happening, and tells her procrastinating mom, "Write your letter. Coming to Weston's was supposed to buck up your spirits and inspire your writing." Lorelai says that without the candy cane coffee, she can't do it, whining, "Rory, I can't." She further distracts herself by trying to bribe Sue, the waitress, to give her some special coffee from the back. "Honey," Sue says like she's crazy. "Christmas is over." With this dose of reality, Rory finally busts Lorelai for lying to Christopher about the Luke letter: "Come on, Mom. If there's anything to be learned from this whole thing with Lucy, it's that honesty is the best policy." Lorelai: "Eh, it's an okay policy." Rory wonders how Lorelai can expect to have any kind of good relationship with Christopher if she won't be honest with him. "Honey, listen," says Lorelai. "I have been around a long time, okay? I wore leggings the last time they were trendy. I knew Tom Hanks when he was a Bosom Buddy. I have lived and I have learned." She says she understands that Rory values honesty, but sometimes, uh, the truth is just a little more complicated. Rory ain't buying this line of bullshit, and neither am I. Lorelai says that Chris has been a little on edge about Luke lately, after running into him outside Doose's, and after arguing with Lorelai about Emily's plans for the wedding party, so she just wants to be sensitive and not worry him about something he doesn't need to be worried about. Is Lorelai putting us on, or are we putting her on? How could this woman not have learned in thirty-seven years that her avoidance and passive-aggressive machinations never work? Rory says that Lorelai's reasoning makes sense, which she would, seeing as how she once stole a BOAT when she got her feelings hurt! Ladies, please! What is wrong with you? (And by the way, it's certainly not your wardrobe, which continues to be bangin'.) Rory says that, really, she wants her mom to know that she's not a kid anymore, and that she doesn't have to create this Christmas illusion where everything is perfect and fine. "You still believe in Santa, though, right?" Lorelai asks. Rory: "Your best dry cleaning client? Yeah, of course."