We know who the daddy is

You know I can’t let this one go without commenting on it. It’s just too irresistible.

Arnold? And Maria?

Come on now, people...she didn’t know?

No one ever asked that child, “Who’s yo daddy?”

And Maria never had any inkling that the bun in the housekeeper’s oven was marked “Courtesy of AS”?

I don’t think so.

Women just know those kinds of things.

How does the housekeeper show up one day with a bellyful of baby and no one thinks to consider Arnold as the daddy...? Given his wealthy reputation as a world-class lech, seems to me he would have been the butt of all the jokes about the mysterious baby that the housekeeper suddenly had.

“Hey Dad, the housekeeper’s son sure looks like you! Is there something you’re not telling us?” Hahahaha...!

Of course, all the facts have yet to come to light.

Was she involved with someone else at the time?

Did he think HE was the baby’s daddy?

Normally this is not something I would even think of twice or bat an eye at, but because it involves Mr. Pomp — ‘scuse me — Mr. Pump and Circumstance — it really is one of those “righteous indignation” kind of things.

I thought it was pretty funny that he was caught on tape telling reporter not to ask the same questions again because it would bore him.

My whole “raised eyebrow” question is the wife.

Seriously?

Maria. Get a clue.

I think, in my own twisted little weird way of thinking, that she did know. She’s known all along but kept her yap shut because it was not a good publicity, especially if he was already blowin’ gas about running for governor.

Their agreement was to let her portray the wronged wife at the end of his term, when he decided he would come forth with the announcement of having a bouncing 14-year-old baby by another woman.

This way she would gain sympathy that would lead to another news gig for her, you know, some news organization would take pity on her and give her another shot at doing specials.

Remember folks, it’s all Hollywood.

Two big names that are used to the limelight.

There is no way in Mercedes Benz that she didn’t know about this child all along.

Given the choice of ‘baby mama’ by Arnold, combined with his strange android looks, I hope that child is attractive in spite of them both.

She’s no beauty queen by any stretch, but I’m sure she was able to do more than flip a quarter on tight bedsheets ... hence widdle booboobear.

Can’t buy the whole “I didn’t know thing”...never will.

Now we turn to the front page of “The Reality Times.”

I tried to pass off a sweet potato pie as a pumpkin pie to The Kid.

One big sweet slice of pie topped with whipped cream ... it looked like a picture out of “Southern Living.” I dipped into a bite with my fork and ohhhhmama. That was good stuff.

Hubs devoured his before I’d even stepped away from the table.

I cut a slice for The Kid, shook up the can of whipped cream (too tired to make my own which I normally do) and let fly with a good “shhhuuuuushhh” of the white foamy stuff, and presented it BimBimSalaBim and bowed as I exited backwards.

About a full minute later, I heard the stomp stomp stomp of not-so-little feet as he walked up to me and said, “What. Is. This? It’s not pumpkin.”

Wha...? Not pumpkin?

“What do you mean, ‘not pumpkin?’”

“This is gross. No way this is pumpkin pie.”

How did I know he’d turned into Gordon Ramsay overnight?

My discerning little child with the over developed palate could tell?

I laughed and laughed before ’fessin’ up that it was sweet potato pie.

“Never again, Mom. Don’t try to fool me.”

“OK. Give it to daddy. He’ll eat it.”

“He’ll eat anything.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he will.”

Hubs was tickled to get that slice of pie just at half time.