CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal for October 13^th (Thursday).

Joanne has just had a feel-good moment with her kids where they told her they loved her and each other.

“Kiss your butt-plugs like good little sluts.” I didn’t want to ruin the moment by gushing over the fact they were all getting along in a way they never had prior to my husband’s discipline plan for Taylor. I held up the two butt-plugs to my girls’ mouths.

“Are we SUPPOSED to be sluts, Ma’am?” Janie pouted while giving her black latex plug a sweet little smooch.

“No, you’re learning not to be pigs!” Donny demanded impatiently.

“Actually…” I looked over at Donny. I was trying to be funny by using his catchword ‘actually,’ but I wanted to make a point as well. “You’re going to learn by behaving like a slut, but not because you want to or will benefit from it. You’re going to be controlled. You won’t be naughty sluts who misbehave – you’ll learn to be generous with your time, flirt, and be polite like a good little slut.”

Tom had once told me I was his slut using similar phrasing. I wasn’t comfortable telling my daughters they were sluts once I heard myself saying the words out loud, but I decided to go with it.

“So embrace it, and open your mouth and French kiss Gary like he’s your first true love,” I said, then pushed the plug to her mouth and insisted she open her mouth and lick it. “You’ll have three times a day where you get to lube your asses normally. I highly encourage you to learn to kiss your butt-plug with your mouth open and get as much spit all over it as you can, because you’ll find that helps grease your backdoor if you get a dry butthole,” I told Janie. “You’re learning to kiss the thing that gives you discomfort but trains you to embrace it,” I explained.

Once again, I was glad no one asked how I knew this, because it was hard-learned from wearing a butt-plug for my husband’s pleasure for many years in private.

I felt behind Janie and ran my finger down her crack. I found the perfect, smooth circle of her butthole and rubbed my thumb on it. “It’s dry – have your brothers not allowed you to lube your asshole this morning?” I asked.

“No, Ma’am?” Janie looked concerned.

“Then you beg them in case they forget! They’re new to this,” I warned her, and told Donny to add a routine schedule to his morning routine. “I want you to demonstrate leadership and make sure the girls have had their assholes lubricated before school, once they get home, and right before they’re tied up for bed,” I said.

“Great!” Donny agreed with delight. “How do they lube it?”

“Can you say asshole around your sister so that she gets used to hearing her body spoken of in the crudest terms?” I asked Donny. “I know it’s vulgar and we’re asking a lot.” I knew he cussed like a sailor on Xbox Live, but I pretended that he may find my request offensive.

Once he agreed, I explained by telling Janie to assume the punishment position. Janie bent at the waist and put her hands behind her back.

“You have a tight little ass, Muffins,” I said with concern. That pink little hole was SO tight this may hurt if she didn’t learn to loosen it up and unclench.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Janie answered.

“Not exactly, Tight Ass,” I chuckled, and told her to pull her cheeks apart as hard as she could. I made her brothers look at her body as we stood behind her and tell me if they could see everything.

“Not really,” Scotty admitted.

“You really need to stretch that ass more when you bend over or crawl. You want to be aware that you’re showing it to anyone who’s looking – no privacy. Your legs should not be closed. This will help you learn to embrace being on display and also to accept your plug and inspections. You should be punished anytime you’re crawling and the pink of your asshole or pussy isn’t visible to anyone who wants to see it,” I explained. I demonstrated by spitting on her asshole and told them that they could lubricate it like that.

“If you want, you can pour almond milk on it as well,” I suggested.

“That has cum in it, though,” Donny scrunched his nose in disgust at the thought of pouring cum directly on his sister’s asshole. “Are you really sure?” he asked skeptically.

“Cum can help reinforce a girl’s feelings of submission - not only by consuming it, but by having it on their face, in their hair and on their ass. You’ve cum on Fart Face before,” I reminded him. I realized it sounded pretty graphic, but so was jerking off in your mother’s almond milk. I decided the less said about that, the better.

“I’ve never cum directly on Taylor’s asshole!” Donny said with shock – that was a line too far for him. He was so galled by the idea that he called his older sister by her real first name. “I mean – I didn’t know we are allowed to do that!”

The expression on his face told me he thought I was telling him he HAD too cum on her ass. I was actually trying to give him boundaries. I knew he had a fascination with her bum and all things asshole related – I had seen his porn history for crying out loud. Yet, here he stood looking at me as if I couldn’t be serious.

“Well, you aren’t cumming on Janie or Taylor. You’re cumming on Fart Face and Muffins, or Derpy. As long as it’s not inside their cunts, then it’ll wash off. It’s actually incredible lube. If you can spank or touch it – you can pour something slimy on it. You don’t have to actually touch her asshole – I was just saying you can if that amuses you. It won’t kill her to have it touched, tapped, flicked, or tickled and it won’t to have something gooey on her booty.”

Again, the fact cum made great lube was personal experience – but no one questioned how I knew that cum made great lube.

Once I explained myself Donny seemed less tense and I noticed Janie not surprisingly openly smirked when I said “gooey booty”.

“Actually,” Donny agreed, “it would be the ORIGINAL sex lube,” he said, referencing its biological use during sex.

“Your original sex lube is Jergens lotion, you perv!” Scotty smacked his brother jokingly.

“You’re such a horndog you’d jerk off with toothpaste!” Donny joked.

“You can let your sisters use Jergens to lube their assholes as a reward,” I said smiling, and Donny quickly noted that in his phone on a list he’d created for rewards. I loved how organized he was. “You can also use toothpaste as a punishment.”

“What does the toothpaste do?” Scotty laughed.

“Muffins, run upstairs and bring back some toothpaste from the bathroom,” I ordered, and she promptly ran off to do my bidding.

Even my youngest daughter used to only reluctantly follow my instructions when I gave her chores; she would pout and offer an excuse. Now she crisply executed my instructions and promptly returned.

I’m a natural submissive, but I could easily see how a dominant could grow to love and crave the authority. There was a liberating sense of satisfaction to tell people to do things and they didn’t question, they simply did. I think on top of that, having Donny and Scotty following my directions to give orders that they think I wanted only made me feel all the more powerful. It was quite intoxicating to have everyone agree with the things you tell them to do.

Muffins came back holding the toothpaste and handed it to me. I pointed to where her sister was standing and told her to return to her punishment position and hold her ass-cheeks apart.

I told Donny and Scotty to hold out their fingers and gave them each a good dollop of the toothpaste. It was Crest with extra bleach. “Ooh, bleach? Maybe this will whiten up the dark ring around your asshole, Fart Face!”

She gave him a snarky look and pursed her lips, but didn’t comment.

It was obvious as I looked at my two daughters’ naked bodies that they were quite different physically.

Taylor was tall and voluptuous, with full tits and a little baby fat on her ass to give it a nice bounce and jiggle. Her pussy was pink, and you could see most of it when she bent over, as well as her pert asshole between ripe cheeks that looked hearty and thick enough to take a good spanking. She had short black hair, cut like a punk-rock rebellious teen. She looks an awful lot like Ariel Winter.

Janie, on the other hand reminded me of a fox. Her body was flawless, without a trace of fat anywhere. Her nipples were tiny puffy mounds, and her pussy was a small flap of skin between her legs with only a wisp of blonde pubic hair. She was tall for her age, but much shorter than Taylor, and she had nearly washboard abs, even though she ate whatever she wanted. She had long blonde hair past her shoulders, and the lemony-sweet face that made her look ironically like a young Taylor Swift. She had flawlessly smooth skin without a single blemish or freckle, and her teeth were straight enough that you’d think she was destined to be in movies. She had an all-American goofy girl-next-door quality to her, and yet her body was definitely built for speed.

Her ass definitely was tight and muscular, athletic and toned – almost airbrush perfect.

Donny started to apply the toothpaste to Taylor, but I told him to do Janie first. He seemed reluctant, but didn’t question why I redirected him. I knew he still felt squeamish about touching her, so I addressed it.

“This is a conversation we need to have,” I said. “You boys are telling me you can handle training the girls and you’ll be fair and strict. You need to apply the same rules and rigor to their application to both of them. If you’re going to do that, you need to be empowered to touch them and apply physical discipline. I don’t want to make you do something you’re uncomfortable doing,” I said.

“So get comfortable doing it!” Scotty said laughing, as he wiped a giant gob of toothpaste between Taylor’s ass-cheeks.

“Really rub it in with your thumb now. Don’t be afraid to get a little on the inner rim. You don’t have to push it inside, though. She’s going to feel it around the rim,” I said – once again, from personal experience.

The boys did as they were instructed, and I noticed Donny growing more comfortable with Janie as he instructed her to force her ass-cheeks wider. He was definitely a butt-man, and while he seemed fascinated with Taylor’s bigger butt, it was clear to me that Janie’s smaller, pert derrière didn’t hold as much interest to him. He was also timid in general around his younger sister’s body and that seemed perfectly understandable.

“You don’t have to be afraid of my asshole, Sir.” Janie must have picked up on his nervousness when he was being delicate with her. “I won’t cut the cheese on you,” she giggled, and then crossed her eyes before asking if she was supposed to say, ‘fart.’

I was genuinely surprised at how bold she was being in offering herself to her brother and making it easier for him to accept her this way. Janie had always been direct and the type to come right out and cut to the heart of the matter though.

“I think ‘cut the cheese’ is okay around the house,” I laughed, then told the girls to wait for the burn to kick in. “Girls, I want to see you resist – no touching, no itching, no movement,” I instructed. I knew it would take about thirty seconds before they’d begin to dance around from the sensation of the toothpaste.

I highly recommend trying it, if you want to get a sense for it yourself.

“I don’t feel anything, Ma’am,” Janie giggled, as she waited with her ass-cheeks apart.

“Just be patient; you will,” I warned her.

“I don’t mind this,” Janie commented as she wiggled her butt slightly, but showed no outward signs of discomfort.

I was genuinely disappointed.

Taylor started to wiggle slightly as well, and her tits bounced as she did, but she didn’t yelp or cry out.

“You can use your best judgment on when to apply this to your sisters for one of their lubrications. If they’ve misbehaved or need an attitude adjustment, then you can do it at your discretion,” I explained.

“Can we do it more than three times a day?” Scotty asked enthusiastically. He seemed to be joking.

“You can inspect your sisters at home at any time. If you’re at school, then you can inspect only when you’re able to do it in private. If their assholes are dry, then you can order them to lube up with normal lube, or toothpaste if they’ve been naughty. I told you, you’re leaders now. I’ll back up your decisions even if I wouldn’t have made them, as long as you were doing what you thought was right,” I promised.

Donny and Scotty’s faces told me they didn’t quite believe me yet.

“Get back in that chugga-chugga position. I quite like that. How about you show me how you allow the two of them to shit and piss, and then I really need to get outside to check on the stuff Derpy left on the curb before someone finds her phone.”

“I thought you already went out there and looked for it, Ma’am?” Janie said as she got down on her hands and knees. She was wincing now, and I could see that the toothpaste had just taken a while to affect her.

I placed her sister’s butt-plug into her mouth, and lied to her that I just didn’t find it yet. “This is the first day of the rest of your life, slut. It’s not your place to question your betters on your first day,” I said, telling her something else that Tom had told me.

When we first started talking about me serving him, we hadn’t even been married yet. It all sounded like a far-out fantasy, and I was so full of enthusiastic questions about how it would all work. He calmly answered every one of them consistently, and sometimes he answered the same question more than once.

However, once I began serving he set up a time for me to ask questions in a respectful manner and bring up concerns. He established that I didn’t question HIS behavior in those sessions – only his expectations of mine!

I loved that about Tom. You always know where you stand with him – whether you want to or not.

“Let’s bring Sandor too,” I said as I uncrated our dog and he came bounding out of the crate. “He may as well get a chance to go pee as well,” I said. Sandor made a beeline for the cracks of the girls’ asses to sniff – which is a perfectly natural thing for a dog to do.

“Sandor! Stop!” I warned off the dog.

“Yeah, you don’t want to smell THAT ass,” Scotty teased the dog that he may not the like the way Janie’s butt smells if he gives it a strong whiff.

“Chugga-Chugga, Whoot-Whoot,” Janie tooted before adding, “Hey! My asshole still smells like strawberries, waterfalls, and unicorn farts, Sir!”

Which was one of her jokes from before the discipline began when she farted unapologetically in the open.

“It smells like Colgate now,” Donny said, then swatted her as he marched the girls outside the screen door into the backyard.

“It won’t be the same without Mr. Goldman staring,” Donny laughed.

“How do you know he isn’t?” I asked.

“I just get the feeling his sister is keeping him busy,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, we’d hear the furious sound of him and his nephew fapping their tiny peens from the other side of the fence if they were,” Scotty joked. “Especially now that Muffins is out here!”

The look on Janie’s face told me she appreciated his compliment. It was fairly obvious to me that Mr. Goldman had a thing for my youngest daughter, and it had creeped me out. But now that she was in training, he could look at her just like anyone else could, if he wanted.

“Well, we aren’t out here to be seen by the neighbors anyway, but there’s always a chance Mr. Pewterschmidt or the people behind us could look over the fence. If they do, you’re to smile and wave!” I instructed the girls. “You’ll make no attempt to cover yourself. Now get into the pissing position.”

The pissing position should put the girl squatting 4-8 inches above the ground with ass and pussy parallel to it. Legs are apart, hands are holding ass-cheeks apart, clit hood is fully visible, and pussy lips are parted so that they don’t spurt everywhere. Feet are flat, except the heel is slightly raised.

“Wait, I thought we were supposed to be doing this,” Donny reminded me.

“Sorry, I got so used to running things I forgot,” I said with a smirk. It was very easy, once you assume control, to keep it and not want to give it up.

“Can we make them stand in other positions, or do the bunny ears position?” Scotty asked as the girls squatted side-by-side near the rose bushes where I pointed.

“Piss in the bunny ears position?” I scrunched my nose at the mental image of the girls with their legs above their head, laying on their backs pissing straight up and probably onto their own bellies. That was a very wicked and cruel way to do it.

“What about back-to-back?!” Donny suggested excitedly.

“Oh yeah, or just butt-to-butt, so they can poop back and forth!” Scotty was half-joking.

“That isn’t a real thing,” Donny answered him sourly. The two then fired off a couple other creative ways they could make their sisters take their morning piss.

“The standard way your father teaches is this position, but that’s something you can discuss with him when he gets home,” I said. I prayed they didn’t ask how I knew so much about that.

I didn’t have to use the pissing position at home. I did have to squat over the toilet bowl and put Bud in my mouth while I went. There had been rare and quite humiliating occasions when he made me use the pissing position at BDSM events. There’s something so intensely mortifying about a crowd of even fetish-friendly people watching you piss and shit into a bowl.

I remember I nearly fainted when the entire crowd broke out into applause after I finished.

“They generally have three to five minutes, depending on how much time you have. If we had more time to shave, do enemas or other forms of training, we could do that as well, but I’d suggest you give them the bare minimum.”

“What if we can’t finish before the time is up, Mistress?” Janie asked with a cute little pout.

“Then you wiggle, jiggle and snap it off, Sis,” Taylor replied. She had already done this several times, so she gave her sister a playful pantomime of how she shakes her butt at the end.

“What do we use for toilet paper?” Janie asked her sister. I was surprised; Janie must have missed watching her sister outside the day before.

“Why are you asking Fart Face?” Donny asked. “Does she look like someone who has all the answers and is in a position to tell you what to do?”

“No, Sir,” Janie acquiesced to her brother and appeared intimidated.

“What do they do for toilet paper?” Donny asked me.

I chuckled while indicating Sandor prancing around the fenced in back yard. He was smelling dandelions and huffed one in at that moment before sneezing it back out.

“Sandor is a pet,” I explained. “He doesn’t get toilet paper. It’s wasted on you girls. You can air dry, or if it’s warm enough, the boys can wash you down with the garden hose. In fact, I may have you start picking up after Sandor so I don’t have to waste those little plastic bags on him any longer.

“Just carry it back inside in our hands?” Janie scrunched her nose at how diabolically gross the idea was, but smiled broadly at how audacious it was.

“Did Mom say carry it in your HANDS?” Scotty implied I may have meant their mouths.

“Yes, in your hands,” I said; he’d made up my mind for me. “You can police the yard when you get home tonight and pick up any dog turds that your sister or Sandor left in the yard that didn’t get picked up,” I joked. I knew Taylor hadn’t likely left a turd in the yard, but I thought it was a funny joke.

“In the meantime, fertilize my rose bushes when your brothers give you permission,” I said.

“We can shit and piss, Mistress?” Janie asked for clarification with a confused expression.

“You need to learn the patience to wait to be told,” I said. “They’re going to inspect you afterwards, so if you don’t get it all out then you’ll be punished!”

I waited for Scotty or Donny to tell them, but they seemed to be waiting for me to tell them how to say it.

“Go ahead,” I prompted them.

“You have three minutes to shit and piss over the rose bushes, on three. One… two… three,” Donny said awkwardly.

It wasn’t quite how Tom did it, but it would suffice.

“Will there be time for them to milk us?” Scotty asked anxiously.

“They have four free hands now,” I smiled.

“Well, four hands is enough to hold Donny’s donkey dick, but what about mine?” Scotty laughed.

“I can go get the milk carton since my helper has decided to take another role!” I didn’t answer his obvious joke, and instead teased Janie. I think I didn’t really want to watch her the first time she had to shake her brothers’ cocks until they came.

I knew it would have to be done if we were going to do discipline and hold her to the same expectations as Taylor. It was just one of the things I was hoping would ‘fade to black screen’ like in the movies where you can imagine it happening if you want to:

The girls unzipping their brother’s pants with their mouths, and then boldly taking their cocks in their hands and stroking them playfully, using the spit from their tongues as they talk dirty; the promise of their open mouths coaxing the white man-seed to shoot all over them.

…or you could be more like me and try not to picture it at all.

I picked up the almond milk and shook it. We were already running low. I decided to drink a little directly out of the carton. I’d been the one who discovered the therapeutic value of drinking my husband’s cum regularly. It made me feel naturally submissive, and I had rubbed it into my skin and even used it as shampoo before.

Once I brought it outside, the boys had already cum. Donny and Scotty were panting with looks of ecstatic pleasure on their faces as they leaned on the two girls. The girls were mid-piss as they remained squatting with splooge all over their faces and hair.

Janie saw me walk outside and at that moment puckered her lips and kissed Scotty right on the pink tip of his dick.

It shocked me – so much so I almost spilled the precious almond milk we’d been collecting.

“Why did you do that?” I asked incredulously.

“You told me to kiss the thing that gives me discomfort but discipline and embrace it,” she said, and shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Is that the first cock you ever kissed?” Scotty asked. He was beaming with pride, and believe it or not, his dick was getting hard again.

“No, Sir, I kissed Gary.” Janie’s wide blue eyes looked up at him with reverence.

“Well?” I looked at Taylor who seemed shocked that I would put her on the spot.

She took Donny’s massive python-sized dick and held it up to her lips, opened her mouth and lovingly blew on it while trilling her tongue back and forth before giving it a long kiss, all while a gob of boy-goo ran down her chin.

The competitions were definitely just around the corner, because Janie started to kiss Scotty the same way.

“That’s enough,” I said uncomfortably. “Hasn’t it been three minutes?” I asked.

“Yes, shake it off, girls!” Donny said. “You actually had four minutes and twenty seconds!”

“Ohh, four twenty!!” Scotty asked excitedly.

“What’s so great about four twenty?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” he said sheepishly.

I saw Taylor bite her lip and giggle, so I knew it had to mean something, but I let it go.

“Can we teabag them now?” Donny asked.

“You’re in charge, but we need to leave in fifteen minutes, and I want them dressed and ready to go to school! Meet me at the door when you’re ready! So use your time wisely,” I instructed the two of them.

“It’s Halloween, so they can wear costumes,” Scotty pointed out.

I heard Janie say she had a good idea when I was walking in the sliding glass door. I reminded them to make sure they also had Sandor crated when they come outside as I walked into the living room.

I made a mental note not to remind them of so many things and just trust them to be in charge. I told myself nothing would undermine the girls’ confidence in their leadership and authority more than my lack of confidence that they’ll remember something as common-sense as crating the dog.

At the same time, this was a rapid and recent change, and I was asking a lot of maturity from them now.

I stepped outside to survey the contents of my youngest daughter’s bedroom. In the morning light it definitely looked like she had a mountain of stuffed animals and toys. There were aquamarine ponies, purple unicorns, and pink everything elses all piled up.

It had long been a goal of mine to donate a lot of these things she had to charity. I think she continued getting these things as gifts from people in part because it was easy to think of as a gift for her when it was her birthday or Christmas. It just had to be some impossibly cute doll or stuffed critter. She also had beads, bedazzlers, posters, and all of her furniture as well, in colorful Rubbermaid tubs and bins.

It may have been a coincidence, or it may just be that the old battle-ax Mrs. Waxerman is constantly circling the block, walking her spoiled little dog in search of someone to belittle or share gossip with. She seemed to emerge out of thin air whenever I didn’t want her to bother me.

Not that there were times I DID want her to bother me – but at that particular moment I really needed to focus on finding Janie’s phone and any jewelry or expensive items; Tom may really hit the roof if he finds out we let those go to the trash.

“One of your children end up in juvenile detention?” Mrs. Waxerman asked with the pointed tone of someone who thoroughly wished that to be true.

She was dressed in a very exquisite full-length outfit that hid most of her features and made her look stodgy and conservative – which is exactly what she was.

“No, just some spring cleaning,” I joked, trying to politely ignore her in the hope she would get the hint I was busy and didn’t want to be distracted with her interference.

“I’m not one to gossip, but…” she lied. She was definitely the one who spread ALL of the gossip around the neighborhood. “Some would say that while you were out gallivanting around, a young girl stacked all her goodies out here by herself wearing nothing but a smile,” she said.

“That’s absurd,” I replied as I tried to hide the shame on my face by putting my head into one of Janie’s buckets of toys.

“I’m not one to pass on things like this, but I’ve heard that your older daughter runs around every night like she owns this neighborhood, naked as well. Showing off their bodies in the most sinful of ways!” she said.

“You have that wrong,” I said and explained that these were Halloween costumes and that it just gave the appearance of the nude form.

“I’ve never heard of that,” Mrs. Waxerman said, her tone dismissively insisting that if she hadn’t heard of it, then it didn’t exist. The tone of her voice seemed to taunt me that she knew the truth.

“Well, in Bug Tussle or Mayberry or wherever you come from,” I said sternly, “girls may dress like Puritans, but here it is the year 2017; and girls my daughter’s age dress up in harmless little outfits like that,” I insisted.

At that moment, the door popped open and Sandor came bounding out, barking and yipping towards Mrs. Waxerman’s little Chihuahua.

“Mr. Chips, DO NOT interact with that mangy mutt, you never know where he has been,” she cried a very shrill order to her dog. She pulled her dog back on his leash as it strained to make friends with Sandor. The old woman recoiled in horror that Mr. Chips did not obey as instructed – as if she expected him to understand her literal commands.

The two dogs touched noses and sniffed while the kids came out to join us.

Scotty and Donny normally dressed quite plainly in jeans and t-shirts. However, they both had on costumes of their own – both dressed like girls. Donny was dressed up like a Fairy and Scotty had on a Harley Quinn costume complete with pig-tail wig and baseball bat.

“I am one of the Fairly Oddparents! Wanda,” Donny announced boldly before waving his wand around. He was wearing a pink sequined fairy dress with heels and a wig.

Scotty finished the magic spell for him, “Aparecium Slutoriums!”

“That’s Harry Potter,” Donny explained, “Not Fairly Oddparents!”

“Yeah, but it’s a spell of Slut Appearance!” Scotty explained proudly as my two daughters emerged from the front door.

Janie was wearing a collection of deep blue balloons strategically arranged around her body. She was covered in the same color body paint from her chest down to her waist, and had a huge grin on her face as the balloons shook while she walked out to greet us.

Taylor was wearing the exact same outfit, except it was deep purple.

“What are you supposed to be?” I asked as I put my hands on my hips. This was way too much – I couldn’t see they were naked underneath, but it was definitely implied, and the schools would never allow this.

“Blueberries and Grapes, Ma’am!” Janie answered, with delight dancing on her face.

“Slutty Blueberries and Grapes,” Scotty corrected.

“Well, that’s way too much,” I started to say, but Mrs. Waxerman cut me off.

“If you persist in this indecency I will take this up with the Home Owners’ Association with a very stern letter! This is absolutely shocking, and I will have you know that your dog has also licked Mr. Snips three times!”

“Well, there’s no harm in my dog licking yours. That’s sweet!” I smiled down at Sandor who was sitting there quietly, now that he had met Mr. Snips and was no longer curious.

“Your mutt is a male, is it not?” she demanded.

“I guess so?” I didn’t understand where she was going with that. I had expected her to imply that my dog hadn’t had his shots, which he most certainly had, and I was going to show her the dog tag.

“A male dog licking another male dog?” She raised her eyebrows as if this should now be obvious to me how world-ending this gender-fluidity between doggy kisses was.

I giggled.

“This is what worries you? It keeps you up at night?” I asked her without a trace of restraint in my voice. I had up to this point been concerned about her feelings towards me and my family, but I didn’t care any longer what she thought.

“No, it doesn’t, but look at your sons! They’ve dressed like spawn of Satan. Queers who wave around magic wands and do the work of the devil?” She hadn’t even gotten to my daughters yet.

“I don’t wave a magic wand,” Scotty corrected her with a fake accent and a wink like his menacing character “This is a Magic baseball bat! Want to try it out?”

“Donny is dressed like the Fairly Odd-Parents. It is a cartoon show about two fairy god parents that grant wishes to a boy! It’s really not that big of a deal,” I explained. I knew that they were doing this to impress the two girls from school they liked, although – I have to admit I was feeling almost as embarrassed about the two of them as I was my slutty daughters. “Scotty is Harley Quinn from Batman! These are perfectly normal off the shelf costumes,” I explained.

“From a cartoon? From the television!” Mrs. Waxerman only became more incensed that I would consider anything that came from something as wicked as a television. “I don’t even have to tell you what a horrible example YOU set for your daughters. Cavorting with Mrs. Rachel Goldman, the known porn actress, and her deviant brother! At all manner of hours down at Olive Garden! That’s the reason your girls have no sense of decency regarding what parts of their bodies they allow boys to see!”

I was horrified she may actually know what I did at Olive Garden somehow.

“Look…” I put my foot down and just let her have it. “We’re new to this neighborhood. I wanted to get on your good side because I knew right away you were the local busybody, up in everybody’s business. I didn’t want you spreading rumors about my family to everybody, but you do not HAVE a good side to be on. You must have a very lonely life to be out here at all times of the day, looking in people’s windows, passing judgment in the most unchristianly of ways!”

“Don’t you DARE quote to me on how to behave like a good Christian!” she shot back with righteous indignation. Her neck seemed to extend and rear back like a snake that was about to spit poison on me.

I have to admit, I almost backed down.

“I wouldn’t even begin to know where to start to teach you how to be a good Christian. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my well-behaved, non-Stepford-wife kids down to PUBLIC school and then get inside and watch some old fashioned daytime TELEVISION, because later I have an appointment at the Satanic Temple with Ozzy Osbourne to hang ten with my tits out, and Rachel Goldman is going to join me!”

I threw that last bit in for good measure, but by the time I’d finished, the old biddy had gone and showed no signs of coming back.

Donny started a slow golf clap, and after saying, “Don’t leave me hanging,” all four of my kids gave me a standing ovation for how I’d handled the Wicked Witch of Cherry Lawn Estates.