Y’all, I knew Brangelina wouldn’t last when I read the whole family slept together in a specially built bed like a buncha Willy Wonkas.
Look, I got two new kittens, palm-sized and cute as hell, but I can’t even sleep with them, let alone with six children wallowing and kicking me all night.
I also knew that marriage wouldn’t last when I saw her wedding gown two years ago and she had let the kids draw all over the gown and veil with markers so they could feel they were part of the big day that celebrated, well, the end of a decade of shacking up with their daddy.
And then I knew it wouldn’t last when I saw they asked the kids to help “cater” the reception and the cake looked like an explosion inside Louie Anderson’s stomach, bless his heart.
I admit that people of more generous heart and spirit probably thought this was all loving and uniquely wonderful. Uh huh. I gave it “18 months to two years” after seeing all that.
Is there a teachable moment for those of us out here in the real world, those of us who save for months for a David’s Bridal gown off the rack and get a little dizzy at the notion of kids using it as a coloring book?
Well, sure there is: NEVER SAY YOU’VE FOUND YOUR SOULMATE. That’s the kind of piffle high school juniors write in each other’s yearbooks. When you hear grown up famous people who should honestly know better say it, well, you can start the countdown to irreconcilable differences…NOW.
At this point, I’m obligated to fend off the haters by saying that I don’t wish anyone, even famous people, ill will and bad marriages especially when children are involved. Of COURSE I was pulling for them.
Not that it took up much of my day, fretting about famous couples with odd ideas like (in the case of January Jones) making baked good with her powdered placenta. You read this stuff and you understand that there is a huge disconnect between these people and the real world. So you feel just a little smug that you are more grounded. Look, when the highlight of your day is being able to enjoy the guilty pleasure that is Wendy Williams on the TV overhead at the laundromat while you wash your bulky comforters every season, you realize sometimes it’s fun to be regular.
Or maybe that’s just me. All I know is that every time a celebrity says the word “soulmate,” a very expensive divorce attorney gets his retainer. Oh, and that I wouldn’t let little kids with questionable handwashing habits get anywhere near my wedding cake.
She flies airplanes, they both do amazing charity work, they’re by all accounts admirable, dedicated contributors to the world around them so yay that. But in matters of the heart, they’re nuttier than squirrel poo. #blamethefame.
Celia Rivenbark is the New York Times best-selling author of “Rude B****** Make Me Tired.” Visit www.celiarivenbark.com.