DOG: Mommie! I want to play ball! Right now, Mommie!
SPINSTER: No, Stewey. Mommie is reading her stitchy blogs.
DOG: Ball, Mommie, ball!
SPINSTER: Stewey! I told you! I am reading all of these stitchy blogs. Don't you know how surly I get if I don't get a chance to see everything that's going on in the stitchy bloggy universe?
DOG: You're always surly anyway, Mommie. Ball!
SPINSTER: I resent that accusation, Stewey. I think I'm perfectly pleasant and very easy to be around and if you don't get out from under that chair this very instant, I'm going to send you to your room.
DOG: There are so many things wrong with your statement that I don't even know where to begin. 1) You are NOT pleasant. As a matter of fact, I would say that you are decidedly one of the most UNpleasant people I've ever met. 2) As far as being around you....please realize that I am contractually obligated to do so and that if I had my druthers I'd move in with my Aunt Chrissy and that little snot, Bosco. 3) Finally, Mommie, you have never sent me to my room in all the time I have lived here because you know as well as I do that you are completely incapable of adhering to any type of consistent discipline. This, of course, would account for my total lack of respect for your silly "house rules" and my utter disdain for that idle threat of sending me to obedience school.
SPINSTER: Oh yeah? Well I'm bigger than you are.
DOG: What are you, seven years old? Are you THAT incapable of formulating a decent response to my allegation of sheer incompetency in the Mommie department? Are you THAT unable to come up with a retort that would NOT be used on an elementary school playground?
SPINSTER: (a long silence ensues)
DOG: I see that you have no witty comeback for that one, so may I just say BALL MOMMIE! RIGHT NOW! BALL!
The Spinster finds her shoes and walks slowly to the back door, head hanging in humiliation. She mentally calculates the amount of her grocery budget that would be need to be re-allocated to cover the cost of day care and decides that eating macaroni and cheese from the box six times a week might actually be preferable to putting up with this little s***.
The sun shines brightly and the breeze gently ruffles the tree leaves and the Spinster and her little dog play ball in the back yard. All is well in Hoosierville once again.