A Pirate’s Life for Me…Not.

June 18, 2011 § Leave a comment

I know loads of people who sweat Johnny Depp like it’s their job.  I get it, sort of.  I mean he is brilliantly talented and mysterious and unassuming in the sincerest of ways.  His life with Vanessa and the kids in France sounds magical, and I’ve still never gotten over “Winona (Wino) Forever.”  But I can not look at Captain Jack Sparrow without being utterly skeeved.  I just want to hide in the gallows with some makeup remover and take care of business.  I suppose this makes me a loser at suspending disbelief.  My apologies to Rob Marshall.

Pirates have been a longstanding favorite of the wouldgies, always rekindled with the release of a new “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie.  We have dress up, all kinds of books, action figures and soon to be the newest Lego series, since Wouldgie big has birthday money to lay down.  We went to see the latest one at the theater tonight, which means that I  will awaken to swashbuckling before I can hit the coffee pot.  This also means that Wouldgie small will dig out one of his favorite nonfiction doozers, which shows page after page of gangrenous pirate limbs.  Jealous much?

Certainly, I’ll hear the quotes from one pretty cute pirate book that I’ve read at eleventy hundred bedtimes.  Make that the embellished quotes, now that they are 9 and (almost) 7.

“Pirates don’t brush their teeth.”

“Pirates don’t eat their veggies.”

“Pirates can fart whenever they want!  And they don’t have to say excuse me!  And their Mama never tells them that she’s getting ready to get all 70119 up in here.”

“Boys, that’s because pirates don’t have Mamas.  They are ALONE at sea with NO ONE to make them snacks or pack their swim bags or tuck them in.  Not to mention help them with their syphillis and scurvy.”

“We still wish we could be farting pirates who don’t have to wear unders.”

Happy Father’s Day, Mister.  Today, the credit’s all yours.


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