Little Moby Homemaker: Domestic God

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Domestic doG

Moby Homemaker

I am an out of work "At Home Dad" who has risen from the ashes like an overweight, over worked, under paid phoenix to become a "Domestic God"

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Every morning this Domestic God waits in the front of his family's  house for the school bus with his five-year old son, who we'll call "Little Rusty".  I love our home.  It's situated right across from a park--a good park.  You know, a big one with a baseball diamond, tennis courts, a great playground and just LOTS of green, green lawn.

Every morning without fail comes a woman, who we'll call "Ms. Hathaway" (mainly because that's who she looks like, Ms. Jane Hathaway from the "Beverly Hillbillies", who was played by Jane Culp), walking her little white poodle across our lawn.  Let me be clear--I don't hate dogs.  In fact, I like many of them.  I do however, not really care for those little pussy dogs, like the one's Paris Hilton or my Miss Hathaway has.  I will be even more clear--I absolutely LOATHE the pussy dog that pisses and craps on my yard (the yard directly across from the beautiful sprawling green park) every fucking morning!  At first, I wasn't sure if Miss Hathaway didn't know or simply didn't care that she daily used my lawn as her fruity canine's toilet.  On a recent morning--I found out.

Rusty and I sit together in our front room and watch through the window for his 7:15am bus Monday through Friday.  Once the weather gets a little warmer, the two of us open the front door, so Rusty can sit on the front stoop, as I sit inside to watch.  For one solid week, Rusty and I watched Miss Hathaway and that niddy little dog pull up in our yard, to then follow with a lifting of the back leg and a squat.  Of course, it was just the dog doing this.  Had Ms. Hathaway taken part in the pooping and pissing festivities, as well--I probably could've gotten swifter and more harsh punishment than I was to later inflict on her.  I know it's a little dog, but who the hell wants to see that as they're eating their morning Malt-o-Meal Frosted Mini -Spooners?

Little Rusty sat there every day and silently watched the show.  I mean, he is five--so poo and pee are right in his comedic wheel house.  But without the compliment of a fart, even he too, was growing leery of this daily evacuation ritual.  Not to mention, he was pretty regularly coming in the house with sneakers covered in doggie doo.  Yes, I picked up the dog crap--but who can ever really get it all???  I'm just one man!

Well, the other day I decided that I had had enough of Ms. Hathaway's daily desecration of my suburban landscape.  So, as that white little dog did her business I yelled out the front door, "Hey!  There's a whole park across the street"!  Once the dog finished, Ms. Jane Hathaway  picked it up, said to the dog (as if it speaks English, which everyone knows they don't) "Baby, that mean man is yelling at us".  Of course, she never apologized, never acknowledged an error on her part, or made eye any contact with me.  I was clearly the asshole here...???

The next Monday, Rusty assumed his position in front of the house.  Again, as always, came along Ms. Hathaway and her precious, ill-mannered "Baby".  Without flinching, the dog did what he does best--pissed and shit on my front lawn.  This really creased me.  As Ms. Hathaway and "Baby" walked away, I whispered into Rusty's ear and sent him to follow the two poo perpetrators.  As he caught up with them, Rusty did just as he was instructed.  In his little five-year old voice, he asked, "Ma'am where do you live?"  Ms. Hathaway, with a puzzled grin answered, "We live around the corner on Alpine Hills".

At this point, I came out from my front door and shouted to her, "Thanks, I'm going to bring my 'babies' over this evening to do their business on your front lawn!.  I'll be sure to load them up on lemonade and we're having Mexican tonight for dinner.  It should be a real spectacle!" Appalled by my revelation Ms. Hathaway picked up her "Baby" and scurried around the corner.

The next morning at 7:10am Rusty and I were pleased to see that little bitch doing her business across the street at the park--where her "Baby" dog was now doing her morning pissing and crapping.  In case that wasn't clear--I called Ms. Hathaway the "bitch".  Chalk one up for the Domestic God.



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Destiny said:

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Love it!

Daisy said:

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Bravo! Bravo! HA HA HA! Good for you. :-D
Wow, Ms. Hathaway has a lot of nerve! I can't believe she returned after you confronted her the first time! YIKES!

Happy Easter to you and your family, Moby!

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