Hold on to your hats my dear readers, there is absolutely nothing controversial about what I am about to admit. Are you sure you can handle this? Take a deep breath before you read this next statement…. <and in…..and out>
I’m a tad bit enamored by Johnny Depp.
<GASP> It’s a shocking development that is for sure. I’ve tried to hide it, but I just can’t do it any longer. It’s time to lay it all out on the line. You know that I have never invited him to the farm. I would never ask him to have dinner with me. I’ve never gotten up at four in the morning to catch a glimpse of him in person. I sure as hell would never begin to speculate about how it would really go down if he actually showed up at my door.
That last sentence is a lie. I totally would do that. Especially after seeing my friend Ilana (of Mommy Shorts fame) interview Taye Diggs (hottie mchotterson) on her very own couch. Ilana has kicked off an amazing new show on Ulive that you simply must watch (please come back when you are done). Take a few minutes to watch her episode with Taye while I fetch a hot cuppa joe (seriously, watch it. He takes off his sweater and his smile is delicious).
I get asked over and over again what I would do if JD ever showed his handsome face on the farm. Until that happens for realz I cannot say for sure, but I say we have some fun speculating.
Chances are, when he arrives I will be sitting out on the patio with a good book like I Just Want to Pee Alone and my coffee. I will most definitely still be in my jammers with some pretty amazing bed head dreaming about a maid to come take care of my housework. The sound of a car approaching the house will no doubt wake me from my dream and I will be shocked back into my glamorous reality. He will get out of his car all Rico Suave-like and I will spill my coffee on my fancy fleece PJ’s. This will come in handy as it will disguise the fact that I peed myself. I will ask him not to hug me since I haven’t showered in who knows how many days and the coffpee perfume doesn’t really mask that. (Wait a minute, who am I freaking kidding? There would be hugging and hopes that the coffee smell overpowers all the other odors.)
Once we get past the initial awkwardness of my inability to form a coherent sentence void of multiple obscenities, we would discuss what I am reading and he would undoubtedly ask me to sign a copy of IJWTPA for him. Of course I would do it because who wouldn’t, but at this point I would have to invite him in because I don’t keep a pen in the glove compartment of the Little Tikes Coupe.
I have read many an interview in which he wishes for a “normal” life. That he didn’t “ask” for fame, it just happened. That some day, he just wants to “live life. REALLY live life.” His wish is my command. These toilets don’t magically scrub themselves, meals don’t appear out of nowhere, homework doesn’t get done without a fight, and this farm doesn’t run its self. No one here is any more special than the others, so I hope he brings some rubber gloves. Here’s how I picture it:
What’s that? You need to use the bathroom? Super, while you are in there here’s the toilet brush and some cleaner, the clorox wipe-down from last week has expired and these boys can just never seem to hit the hole. Don’t forget the floor, because that isn’t water around the toilet.
Hey, go in the laundry room and switch that laundry over for me. Is there a problem? You put the clothes in the machine, put in a little bit of soap and press the start button. NO, NOT SO MUCH SOAP! Damn it. Guess we’ll do a second rinse on this load.
PITA is screaming? Oh, he just needs his butt wiped. If you’re lucky it was a clean one. Have fun.
The sheep are out, be a champ and run out there and chase them back in. WAIT!!!! COME BACK!!!! I forgot to tell you……..to be careful not to scare them or they’ll scatter. Oooops. I hope he figures that out. Nope. Poor guy.
Have a seat for a little bit, time to pay some of these bills. Oh, not that one. We can’t pay that one yet. Nope, not that one either. That one will be OK, but not that other one. Money doesn’t grow on trees around here, you have to time these things just. right.
I should probably grab a shower. You hang out with PITA and if you could whip up some grilled cheese or something for lunch, that’d be great. Really? You need a recipe? Bread, cheese, bread. Toast it up. Here’s the griddle, figure it out.
The kids are home from school. Can you start them on their homework while I run this part and some seed out to Farmer Bob? I think they’ll be OK with you, they know your face well enough. You’ll be fine. Trust me. <snicker> Besides, after that incident with the last babysitter I hid all the duct tape and rope.
Oh, and PITA is on the pot again so you’ll need to tend to that while I’m gone. From the smell of things, it’s not good. I told him to lay off the blueberries yesterday.
Helloooooo? Anyone home? Johnny? Oh shit, they found the tape. <finds JD asleep in the recliner, kids running amok. Breathes sigh of relief and goes to cook up some grub>
After filling our bellies and putting the kids to bed we would finally have time to chat. I would bring out the wine, remember that he doesn’t drink, rejoice because that means more for me, and we would stay up into the wee-hours of the night solving important worldly problems like why I am so inept at playing string instruments, why I fed PITA blueberries, and why so many critics disliked The Lone Ranger.
He would undoubtedly admit that this “normal” life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. He makes a few phone calls and arranges for maid service once a week, because I shouldn’t have to work so damn hard. He tells me to call my boss and quit my job and hires me to create and run all the social media accounts for his publishing company and himself. He gives me strict instructions to only create and post at my leisure, because writing a book should be my first priority. Book? What book? Why the one he just signed me to write.
I would then ask him for a signed copy of House of Earth: A Novel and he would retrieve the one from his bag that he brought just for me. First edition of course. <swoon>
He would struggle with telling me good night, we would exchange phone numbers and make plans to get together next week in order to squeeze in a “business” dinner at his place. Sans kids.