Dr. Bobby, hugging his two sons, waits on the curb for the wife. Mirth and tickling segues into a discussion of "what's going on today." Today there's a custody battle in progress and, according to pure, innocent Kid One, "The man's gonna tell us who's gonna win us." This kid is definitely edging out his brother in terms of lines. Pained look from Dr. Bobby. "No, not win. We're gonna try to figure out where you guys are gonna live. Are you gonna live with me or with Mommy." And they're still hugging. Probing for bias, Dr. Bobby haltingly asks if they want to live with him. Neither child sinks to answering this ploy for validation. Conveniently, Mommy arrives (in her Volvo station wagon, of course). It's Patricia Clarkson, looking only slightly less disheveled than she did as a German junkie in High Art. The hug finally ends, and Dr. Bobby herds the kids in the car, planting kisses on each. Dr. Bobby loves his children. He is a good father.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Dr. Abe shakes roommate Court, looking for an ally to help fix the "situation in my bedroom." Court couldn't care less, because he's sleeping. While Court may be a bit of a troll, he's got the right attitude, and suggests that Abe simply tell her to get out. Choosing instead to employ some non-strategic passive aggressive tactics, Abe instructs Court, "Do not be nice to her, okay. Don't be mean, just don't do anything that encourages her to do anything but leave." Wuss.

Finally escaping from the doctors' homes, we happen upon Lyla and Neil breakfasting in a coffee shop, discussing which nanny to hire. Lyla favors Patricia, the girl from Mexico City with "the cute little scar." Exactly what goes into interviewing a nanny these days? Neil disagrees, saying that she was "extremely inappropriately dressed." Lyla didn't notice; she thought the girl was confident. Neil takes issue with "the tube top. Breasts and thighs." Lyla senses attraction, Neil maintains that Patricia was silly. This could all be resolved if we knew where to find that little scar. Lyla wants a sip of coffee, but Neil, in his role as protective husband/father, gently takes away the mug. Impressed with Patricia's decision "not to have kids like all of her friends by the time she was eighteen," Lyla reminds Neil that she was instead "dead-set on getting an education." Brains, contraception and a tube top! The universally-acknowledged perfect skill set for wannabe nannies! Body-conscious Lyla advises Neil to "get your head out of the girl's breasts," maintains that the dress code is completely cultural (pardon me?), and reaffirms her confidence in trusting her spawn to a young woman with the presence of mind not to become "a teenage baby factory." Meow. Again, she wants more coffee, he takes away the mug. Kind, patronizing Neil. You know, I like Martin Donovan as much as the next person, and he excels at playing milquetoast guys with hints of depth (no departure here, yet), but for the past several scenes he's been wearing the slightly surprised, slightly repulsed facial expression of someone who just smelled manure. What gives?