Well, this sure is an unfortunate photo right now.
As dumb and over-scrutinized as this whole thing is, I, for one, keep finding myself thinking about it. Maybe because I’m in California. Or maybe because it’s been all over the media these last few days. Or perchance because hubby and I found ourselves discussing whether our marriage could endure a love child last night. The conclusion, um, yeah, probably not. There are so many factors that must make this pretty unbearable for Maria right now. If I were her, I’d be on a first class flight to Brazil.
The thing I read yesterday that made old Arnie seem ever so slightly less hateful is that the mother only told him he was a father years after their love child was born. But while it makes Arnold look 2% better, he was just having unprotected sex with the maid, after all, it sure makes the mother seem more manipulative. Of course this whole love child scenario is just a giant mess however you cut it. One thing is for sure—I’ve never said “love child” this many times before.
Anyway, I can’t wait until Lifetime Network makes a show about it. A few possible titles starting with the obvious:
My Maid, My Lover
Governor of Love
Child of Passion: I Didn’t Know She Was Pregnant