The term “domestic housewife” implies the existence of a wild, feral housewife. What is she like?

I’m actually just three racoons in a trench coat who can’t cook.

Please don’t tell my husband.

Skittish. Gotta put a bowl of food out and gradually win them over.

Doing that to 7 of them currently. They keep fighting a raccoon.

She is 8 feet tall and sentences you to death by snu snu

Roams the neighborhood at night folding garments plucked from random clotheslines.

I used to drop my kid off at school, go to the gym for a couple hours, go grocery shopping, clean the house, pick up the kiddo, take her to a park, then come home and make dinner for the fam.

Now I am in my house, can’t go to a gym, I’m homeschooling the kiddo so I’m sucking down coffee and trying not to let my head explode after I try for the tenth time to explain what a denominator is and why we have to do school and why we can’t go to the park and why we can’t trick or treat and at 3 pm when my husband comes in the door I’m still in my PJs with dirty hair and a look in my eyes that says I want to run away but there’s nowhere I can go.

That’s the feral housewife.