Samantha is riding Warren, wearing a bra, because she can have pictures hanging in her foyer that show her nude body but she can’t fuck with her breasts swinging loose. Obviously. “Samanfa!” Warren growls. “I WUV your tittie-witties!” She looks put-off. It’s like she’s having sex with Tweety Bird. “Warren, you’re a great fuck, but I don’t need the baby talk,” she says gently, almost maternally. “You don’t have to call them my tittie-witties. These are my breasts, and you don’t have to say anything about them. It’s just sex, and it’s fine.” She delivers this soothingly, with a beaming smile, and it’s really quite creepy, so I don’t blame Warren for leaping up and storming into the bathroom. Annoyed, Samantha covers herself with a sheet and waddles to the bathroom door. She tries to get him to come out, this time hitting us hard with the adult-child dynamic -- “Can we talk about this like adults?” -- but when he does come out, he’s dressing and preparing to leave. “Samantha realized she wore the nipples, and attracted a big baby,” Carrie explains. As the door slams, Samantha looks peeved. No gasm-wasm for Sammy-wammy.
“Speaking of babies, Charlotte and Trey still were not,” Carrie narrates. Charlotte is in bed, fingering a Tiffany’s silver rattle. Trey discovers her and looks sheepish. He ordered it a week ago so that it could be engraved. I’m a little alarmed at the passage of time here, which is reaching Gilmore Girls proportions. “We had each other, and then we had you, and now we have everything,” Charlotte reads from the rattle. I think my sister and I once wrote that same letter to a chocolate-chip cheesecake. Gingerly, Trey and Charlotte both wonder why they stopped trying after having Tricia and Cliff over for dinner. “Kids don’t even want to sit by me,” Charlotte mopes. Trey moves in for a cuddle and reminisces about how in love Cliff and Tricia used to be. That helps a lot, I’m sure -- it’s good to hammer home what a hollow, loveless trap that marriage has become because of the children. Charlotte decides that having just one child might be the solution, and Trey says, “It’s a start. See how we do.” They kiss. “Then, Trey told the lie that all parents-to-be have to tell themselves in order to procreate,” Carrie says to prepare us. Trey whispers to Charlotte, “Our kids will be different.” More kissing. Carrie shares that they made love that night, and possibly, a baby.