I know you’ve all been in this situation before.
You have a buddy, a great guy (reverse gender if you’re penis-deficient) who you love to hang out with. He’s fun, he’s smart and everyone likes him. He’s the life of the party. If he were a rug in The Dude’s house he’d really tie the room together. You catch my drift.
But then Capt. Cool Friend gets a girlfriend. At first you’re excited because she’s super hot. Blindingly hot. The level of hot where you can’t look at her without getting a little uncomfortable in the pants. And for five seconds you’re more envious of that friend for landing such a gorgeous woman than you’ve ever been of anyone else in your life.
But then she opens her mouth. And suddenly you’d rather sever both your ears than listen to one more narcissistic word from her perfectly formed lips.
I’m not friends with Tom Brady. But I have been a psychotic fan of the New England Patriots since birth, and because Tom Terrific brought me three Super Bowl trophies I long ago declared my ever-lasting man love for him. And for a long time, he was perfect. The only thing he did wrong was date Tara Reid for a short time, ruining the 2002 season. Even when Bridget Moynihan pulled the goalie on him in late 2006, saddling him with a kid despite their break-up, I didn’t hold it against him. Tommy Boy could do no wrong.
Until he married that twat Gisele.
She is a Victoria’s Secret supermodel. She is 1,000 different flavors of gorgeous. She oozes sex. So needless to say, at first I was happy for him. The best quarterback in the NFL marrying the most successful and beautiful supermodel of all time? It made sense. And all the male (and surely some of the female) fans idolized him even more than they already did. Just imagine what life would be like, we thought, with Gisele Bundchen to come home to every night.
But as it turns out, it would be a nightmare.
Gisele became a mother for the first time last December. Since then, she has opined on nearly every hot button parenting topic. Most recently, she told Harpers Bazaar UK, that breastfeeding helped her keep her figure. Which is all well and good, but Gisele took it juuuuuust a little too far.
“Some people here (in the US) think they don’t have to breastfeed, and I think ‘Are you going to give chemical food to your child when they are so little?’ I think there should be a worldwide law, in my opinion, that mothers should breastfeed their babies for six months.”
Look, I’m pro-breastfeeding. OK? I think breastfeeding is a good thing. The healthiest thing. Got it? Gooooo breastfeeding. But being an advocate for breastfeeding is one thing, tearing down non-breastfeeding mothers by insinuating they are chemically poisoning their offspring is something else entirely. And then suggesting a ridiculous “worldwide law” to FORCE all mothers to mirror all-knowing Gisele the supermodel, is on a whole other crazy planet.
What about the mothers who try their damndest to breastfeed but can’t? Or the ones who simply hate it? There are a myriad of reasons a woman might not breastfeed, but whatever that reason is I can guarantee you one thing: it’s none of Mrs. Tom Brady’s fucking business.
Although I was initially shocked to read Gisele’s comments, I quickly realized I shouldn’t be surprised. You see, this is not the first time she’s stuffed her perfectly manicured foot into her gaping runway of a mouth.
Shortly after her son was born, Gisele spilled all the details of the delivery and the weeks leading up to it. How she gave birth at home. How she gave birth naturally, meditating the entire time without uttering so much as a scream. Then — and I’m willing to bet this made most women consider hiring a hitman to hunt Gisele down — she was back modeling on the runway just weeks after giving birth with her flawless body back intact. And in addition to yoga and doing kung fu right up until her son was born, here’s her big secret:
“I think a lot of people get pregnant and decide they can turn into garbage disposals. I was mindful about what I ate, and I gained only 30 pounds.”
And then, two months ago, Supermom told the Boston Herald that her then 6-month-old son was — wait for it — potty trained. I’m serious. She said a 6-month-old was already dropping regular deuces in the potty.
Mmm hmmm. Sure. What’s not believable about that?? First she only gains 30 lbs because she didn’t become a fat ass garbage disposal like most women. I’m sure that had nothing to do with the fact that she makes 80 kajillion dollars a second and can afford her own cooks. Her own army of gourmet chefs actually. Then she has a pain-free delivery made enjoyable by meditation. Reports are she made pancakes for breakfast the next day. Next she loses any trace of the baby weight in .84 seconds after giving birth and gets back on the runway. Yet she still has enough time to needlessly potty train an infant. And now she has proclaimed herself a “world legislator,” creating laws for all of womankind to follow her in her perfect ways.
All Hail Queen Gisele!
Now look, I’m all for breastfeeding. And good for her for losing the baby weight so quickly. But keep in mind, beauty is her profession. She has to look that good or else the well dries up. Not to mention the vats of money she and Tom have to spend on trainers, health food, etc. I also think 6 months is absurdly early to potty train a kid, but to each his own. And she said she wants to live on a farm with Tom, Baby Ben, and lots of chickens and ducks. That’s fine, although Tom may prefer goats.
The problem I have with Gisele isn’t her actions, it’s her know-it-all, holier-than-thou attitude and the seemingly perpetual need to reign supreme over the rest of the parenting world.
So even though I’m just a peon, I’d like to make my own law. I think all leggy supermodels who are traveling down this road called parenting for the first time like the rest of us, should shut their uppity mouths when they only have a few months experience on the job. And in this case, I think said supermodel should concentrate all of her energies on keeping my star QB happy so the Patriots can roll to a fourth Super Bowl.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to tend to my non-potty trained, formula-fed 2-year-old who was brought into this world by a drugged up mama who gained considerably more than 30 lbs during pregnancy, but still managed to remain the hottest bitch this side of the Cape Cod Canal.