Ever have those daydream-y conversations with your friends? You know, where you ponder random impossible scenarios –
“What would you do with a million dollars?”
“What actor would play you in the story of your life?”
“Can you describe a world where the jeans in your closet always fit and dirty socks make it directly into the hamper without a 5 day waiting period on the bathroom floor?”
Get our drift? Well how about this one?
What celebrity would you invite over to your house for an interview and how would it go down?
Okay, that last question is a daydream for us, but it’s not random or impossible at all for our friend Ilana from Mommy Shorts. She has a web show on Ulive-The Mommy Show– where she does just this with her daughters Mazzy and Harlow. The episodes are short and SO entertaining – like tapas for your funny bone if funny bones could actually chow down on some potstickers. They are classy and hilarious versions of every conversation you’ve ever tried to have with an adult with your child by your side.
AND she gets the celebrities to do things in her house! (Ilana is more than kinda on the brilliant side.) Taye Diggs conquered her child-proofed toilet after FOLDING HER LAUNDRY and she got Rachel Dratch to fold up her stroller. Actually, we have our suspicions that Rachel might still be there wrestling with it.
But what we cannot get over is how good Ilana’s house looks. We would be in a stone-cold-flop-sweat panic trying to get our
disaster areas homes ready for camera crews and celebrities. It stressed us out to even daydream about interviewing a celebrity . . . until we remembered Ilana got shizz done in her house, BY CELEBS!
So in our fantasy we would have Martha Stewart over to our houses for interviews because no matter what you say about her, that lady has some skills. And when we say “our houses,” we really mean Ellen’s house because let’s face it, with Erin’s five kids she spends way too much time in her car to even schedule an imaginary interview. It’s sad. We know.
So come with us if you will as we imagine Ellen’s interview with Martha Stewart . . .
First, we would lure her here with a luxurious linen invitation woven from the finest flax east of Cleveland and custom engraved with ink made from butterfly kisses. We might lead her to believe that it was “The” Ellen contacting her to hand over her empire. We said “might,” but we can be devilish when the need strikes.
We’re imagining her not even getting past the front door before Ellen’s house gives her pause.
Martha: Well, good morning Ellen. My you look so much more spritely and blond on TV.
Ellen: Well, you know what they say, the camera subtracts twenty pounds and adds blond highlights.
Martha: I’m also, shall I say, intrigued by your autumnal entry decorations. Those don’t look like $50 Peruvian alpaca woolen boutique cobwebs.
Ellen: No siree, Martha. Those are authentic. We are reasonably sure they’re not from a black widow, so there’s that. Safety first.
Martha: And is this actual mildew on your stoop?
Ellen: I think you’re starting to understand that I’m all about authenticity.
Martha spins on her heel and dashes into the cornfield next door.
Ellen: Wait! I wanted to show you my garage!
Martha: I’ll be right back! It’s a good thing!
An hour passes where Ellen might have gotten a shower AND a cup of coffee if Martha had not bugged her every five minutes for a machete, a drill press, and a box of band-aids.
Martha: Knock, knock.
Ellen: Seriously, Martha? Don’t you think you’re jumping a couple of comfort levels by knocking on the shower door?
Martha: I want to show you your new gorgeous front door. Here’s your robe. My, is this synthetic?
Ellen: Get out. I’ll be right down.
Martha: Are these cosmetics from the drugstore?
Martha: By the way, could you exit from the back of your house and circle around front so you get the full presentation effect?
Ellen: Sure, whatever. Just stop throwing my concealer into the trash, I need that.
Martha: Yes, yes, you do. And you could stand a visit to the Bolivian Royal Beeswax Salon too. Just because it’s fall does not mean it’s a good thing to skimp on grooming.
Ellen does as she’s told and comes around to find this.
Ellen: Wait. You weren’t wearing orange earlier.
Martha: I always travel with a full wardrobe to complement any decor.
Ellen: Right. The wreath is great and I’m sure it won’t have birds attacking my front door AT ALL. But remember, I wanted to show you my garage? Here, put on this blindfold so we can get you through my house without any more sidetracks.
Martha: Is it made from the silk of Mandarin worms fed only on mulberry blossoms and dreams?
Ellen leads Martha past the piles of laundry, papers, and dishes, whips off her blindfold to reveal . . .
Ellen: Work your magic, Martha!
Martha: Is that a circa 1950 fainting couch upholstered in the original golden brocade fabric with a rare Turkish Easter Bunny angora throw laying across it?
Ellen: You hit the nail on the head with the couch, but I’m pretty sure the blanket is polyester from Walmart.
Martha: No matter. I just need to lay down.
Ellen: Take your time. There’s plenty of chips and soda past it’s expiration date on the shelf over there. Just make me a palace.
Martha: Are the chips organic?
Ellen: Sure, Martha, sure.
Daydreaming, it’s a good thing!