Cameron and Foreman check out the kids' bathrooms simultaneously and communicate their findings by cell phone. They're not having much luck with a common bathroom item, as the boys use different deodorants and shampoos. Chi uses Johnson's No-Tears Formula, which I didn't think anyone over the age of one used.
Foreman and Cameron call House to report their findings. Welcome to the new century: they've all got three-way-calling on their cell phones AND they know how to use it, putting them all miles ahead of me; I still don't understand how to use the call waiting feature. Every time someone calls on the other line, I end up hanging up on the original call. House suggests checking out the laundry detergent. Both find "TKO" brand laundry detergent, which I assumed was the culprit since it's the only thing mentioned thus far that isn't an actual brand. (I think. At least, I've never seen it in the grocery store.) House tells them to bring in the detergent.
House and Chase enter Chi's room and ask the parents if their "nice, respectful Asian kid" did his nice, respectful Asian laundry this nice, respectful Asian morning. Mom report that Chi doesn't even know how to use a laundry machine, because she likes to keep her clothes cleaning methods an ancient Chinese secret. And anyways, all of Chi's clothes were new and unwashed. Even his underwear, apparently. I would never wear underwear without washing it first, but I'm not a teenage boy, either. Or Asian. ["I know someone who works closely with underwear, and since I know for a fact that when they're alone in the store unpacking their stock, they sometimes crack each other up by putting panties on their heads, you should always wash new underwear before you wear it." -- Wing Chun]
House and Chase go downstairs to see if Matt's jeans are new, too. While they look faded and beat up, House notices that the label is brand-new. Looks like Matt enjoys the shabby chic look. "Hundred dollars for the homeless look," House says. House orders both boys' clothes to be tested. And so it was, by the Cottages, whose knowledge of lab techniques really knows no bounds. I didn't even think hospitals had the equipment to test the pesticide content of fabric.
In House's office, Wilson informs us all that he never washes his new clothes before he wears them, because he wasn't in my seventh-grade Home Economics class, where we had to watch a decades-old film strip about the importance good personal hygiene and washing new clothes before wearing them, the first of which I already knew and the second of which I never imagined would come in handy. And yet, here we are. House twirls his cane and says he's sure Wilson's wife washes his clothes for him. Wilson says she doesn't, because his marriage is In Trouble. Foreman and Chase enter with the lab results. They've identified the poison, but Margo won't let them administer the treatment to her son. I can't imagine why. House tells them to have Cameron try to talk her into it again, but Chase says that won't work this time; only the CDC will get Margo to do anything. "Godot would be faster," Wilson snorts. Yes, but I'll bet waiting for the CDC would be a lot less boring.