I *heart* this chick. Seriously, she can do no wrong in my book. She’s so beautiful, and a genius, and well-spoken, and a great actress and quietly lesbian. And has kids. I even manage to overlook “Nell” when I think about her. Tree Inna Win! I think I might be a dyke. Here’s Jodie Foster talking about how the rewards to having children don’t exactly shout out at her:
And while rearing children rarely leads to a typical routine, Foster says, “Every once in a while I’ll have one of those days when I’ve fed the fish, cleaned 10 poops from the patio, taken the cat to the vet, sewn my son’s stupid karate stars on until my fingers bleed and made sure that he has everything, and he wakes up and goes, ‘Oh, what’s for breakfast?’ He doesn’t know, and why should he? Right?
“But there’s absolutely no sort of acknowledgment or reward for this – except for the intangible of my kids growing up to be wonderful people.”
Ok, uh, put a diaper on that brat? Damn, is she talking about animal droppings or her kids? What’s happening in that hippie bohemian household? And your kids better grow up to be wonderful people or you can threaten them with Hannibal Lecter or say “one man tried to shoot the President for Mommy, what do you think I can have him do to YOU if you don’t behave?” Seriously, she makes me want to chop my hair, highlight it and go kayaking with a choker on, accompanied by my girlfriend with the killer biceps. And then hit GirlBar.
More Jodi After the Jump