Women often joke that they would swap their husbands/partners for their favourite movie star given half the chance. I’ve got to admit that at times, if I could click my fingers and instantaneously replace Jon for a less complaining model, I’d be tempted, particularly if a) Jon was, at that exact moment, moaning about the piles of paperwork in the kitchen b)I could be certain that the man I’d get in return was Brad Pitt.
I think that after the initial novelty (of Brad vacuuming topless) wore off, I’d be trawling the internet trying to find Jon again. This may coincide with me not being able to start my dumper truck or needing to deliver a foal to Newcastle but these things would merely be a catalyst to something that I know I would do anyway, eventually.
After all, I live in the UK where it is only warm enough for semi naked vacuuming three weeks of the year. I like Jon’s rough ‘n’ ready mad professor in D.I.Y. clothes look – and am treated to it at least 300 days a year – so it just comes down to simple maths – three weeks are not enough to justify a swap in my opinion.
I’ve come up with a few other reasons too, which I’ve listed below to stop me texting Brad, the next time Jon annoys me.
Brad looks hot in Levis but would he actually be any good with a Paslode first fix nail gun, a bucket of cement or a tile-cutting machine? Does he have any stable building experience?
Brad Pitt wouldn’t want to go swimming in Newark on a Monday evening and if he did, it would cause mass subscription in the weight-watchers water spinning class which occurs on the same night and it would be more difficult to park.
Brad is used to Angelina’s dress sense, It is unlikely that either my old horse-poo -coated clothing or lycra triathlon gear would do it for him.
Brad almost certainly is accustomed to five star hotels and Michelin three-star restaurants; he wouldn’t appreciate my hobbit-hole cottage or understand my smoke-alarm dinner gong.
Jon cannot operate a washing machine or oven, he’d probably die without me and a)I’d never want that to happen and b)I wouldn’t want Brad to have that on his conscience.
Jon has been extensively trained in the art of back tickling (and other similar activities). It’d take at least 7 years to train Brad up to a similar standard and he may never be as good as Jon even with all that training.
Brad may well have a similar amount of kids to us but he has never encountered a Troll. She’d send him running back to the Hollywood Hills in no time.
It is highly unlikely that Brad would want to go on £99 ski holidays and even if I were married to a multi-zillionaire, there would be no way I’d ever pay over-the-odds for something if I could find it cheaper with a bit of internet searching at the last minute.
Jon is getting a bit deaf in his old age (although I suspect he only needs his ears syringing) – this is useful when all five children are singing Gangnam style during supper. Brad, with good hearing, would never cope.
At least I know what the triggers are for Jon’s whinging (piles of papers in random places, dog poo on lawn, dirty washing thrown in a pile on kitchen floor, baling twine-trip hazards on horse yard). Only Angelina knows Brad’s triggers and what if he turned out to have more than Jon does?