Hollywood fantasies

[media-credit name="Eva Rinaldi" align="alignright" width="267"][/media-credit]A few weeks back, while with friends, I shared a fantasy I had about one of my favorite Hollywood actors. I told them I’d love to watch Jason Bateman do my taxes. They laughed and I don’t know why. I think he’d look cute sitting at my kitchen table, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Plus I have a feeling he’d do a good job. He seems dependable that way.

I know, I know. That scenario isn’t sexy enough to qualify as a fantasy. Maybe I could add him telling a joke about 1040 forms being ‘EZ.’ Would that spice it up enough?

Here’s the thing: I’ve been married for over 20 years to a man I desperately love. I don’t dream about running off with the likes of George Clooney — unless it’s to his home in Italy. From what I hear that place is sweet, right on a lake and everything. I’d take my husband, of course. We could both use some time to kick back, relax, and eat cannolis. George doesn’t even have to be there, although I hear he’s a great host and I bet he plays a mean game of charades.

So, I’m sorry. I’m boring. I’ll try harder next time. Maybe Brad Pitt re-wiring our chandelier? I could talk about his blue eyes sparkling in the light of the candelabra bulbs, his muscles bulging as he takes the fixture down….

Aw, man. Who am I kidding?  I suck at this. I’ll leave the fantasies to someone more qualified. In the mean time, just know when I have that faraway look I’m dreaming of Colin Firth painting my bathroom.

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For more silliness check out Janene’s website, Moms are from Mars, by clicking here.

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