After an Elvis Costello cover of "Little Boxes," we open with Nancy, in Peter's bedroom, realizing that he's a DEA agent. As he sleeps, she happens to reach right into the cabinet she needs to find a badge and a big-ass service weapon. That's lucky! Well, except for the whole thing where she slept with a DEA agent in the first place. Peter calls Nancy back to bed, and she acts like nothing's wrong.
Back at home, Shane goes looking for his mother and finds, instead, Andy passed out with Rejuvenile open on his chest, and then Silas totally getting it on with Megan (at least, until Silas notices him standing there and yells at him). Take that, school!
The next morning, Nancy tries to escape Peter's, but can't find her sandal. He offers breakfast, but she babblingly demurs. He comments that she has big feet, and she asks about the gun...and then tells him her feet went up a size with each kid. He says he likes her big feet, and then tells her he's a DEA agent. Having this confirmed, Nancy's like, "Bye," but Peter's still trying to be schmoopy, and says he'll need a kiss if he's not going to feel cheap and used. He asks whether his gun freaked her out, and she says yes, because duh. As Nancy quietly loses her mind on Peter's doorstep, a woman sings, "What the fuck was I thinking?" Um, that you weren't getting any off Conrad?
Then it's time for Celia to mentally abuse her daughter -- this time, for taking pretzels out of a bag of groceries while they're stopped at a light. As they struggle, Celia's car edges out into traffic and a giant SUV plows into her car. Turns out the driver of the SUV is a Latina maid (uniformed, no less), freaking out about getting into an accident in her boss's car. Celia's like, "It's not your fault," and the anxious domestic seizes on this, asking Celia to tell her Mrs. that it was Celia's fault. Celia says it wasn't her fault either, and absently complains that there isn't a light at the intersection. As the maid continues freaking out, admitting that she doesn't have a license, Celia's like, "Are you even legal?" As she goes for paper and pen so they can exchange information, the woman speeds off. Obviously. I am legal and do have a license, but Celia would just about scare the law-abiding right the hell out of me.
At Nancy's, Andy's still talking about applying to yeshiva, blathering that he could register if he were gay and living with his Jewish lover, but not if he married outside the faith, and isn't that fucked up. Well, not as fucked up as applying in order to avoid military service, but whatever. Nancy's kids come in and give her shit for her sleepover, and then Lupita blackmails her into getting the dishwasher fixed. Megan comes downstairs pantless. There's some faint heck doled out for Silas's unauthorized evening guest, and for his new habit of calling her "Nancy" instead of "Mom" or "Mommie Dearest," and then a floral arrangement arrives, from Peter. Nancy can't deal.