chocolate is a vegetable

Technically, filming for Troy is supposed to begin on April 22, 2003 in London, and then move to Malta then finally the battle scenes in July or August in Morocco, Mexico, or Spain. Due to the various ropes and hoops that Orlando would have had to go through to adopt, everything that’s happened since spring 2002 has been pushed back approximately 3 months. So instead of filming starting April, it’ll be in July, and so on and so forth. I don’t care about the weather; if you can suspend your belief about this entire adoption even happening, you can certainly suspend your belief in the weather

Mira was missing.

I tried not to break down into blubbering, incoherent mess as I ripped through my trailer. This could not be happening. Not on an island filled with non-English speakers. Not with Wolfgang ready to pop his top off at the cast and crew for the fickleness of the weather. And especially not with Attila the Social Worker ready to bite my knob off at the first hint of incompetence.

My stride casual but lengthened, I headed out of my trailer. Maybe she crawled out into the set. Mira loved being on sets. Anytime we were at home, whether it be my flat in LA or back in London, she was hair-tearingly impossible but the minute you took her someplace with cameras, she became a cherub. Bodes ill for her future; I’d rather she become a doctor or something instead of an actor.

Attila was still heading my way. I jerked open the nearest trailer door.

“Hey, Orli.” Brad grinned at me from his make-up chair. He was still partially in costume with trainers instead of sandals and a baseball cap over his mop. Mira sat on his lap, looking all too pleased with herself. And why shouldn’t she? Barely a year old and she had one of the kings of Hollywood wrapped around her sugar-smudged finger.

Sugar-smudged?

“You didn’t give her sweets again, did you?” I unsuccessfully held back a groan when he shrugged, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“She was being good today, weren’t you, babe? It was just one gummi worm, I swear. ” Brad pinched Mira’s nose. She giggled, grabbing his hand tight. “You're such a little sweetheart. I think my wife’s going to be in trouble.”

With a sigh, I nipped a wad of cotton, wet it, and cleaned up the tiny prima donna as best I could. She opened her mouth, “Pah!” then dissolved into giggles.

I’ll never get sick of hearing her talk! “You want Papa to carry you now?”

In reply, she drew back, cuddling up to my co-star’s chest. “Bahd.”

“She knows my name!” You could have powered the Las Vegas strip with Brad’s smile wattage. “You’re so smart. Wanna stay with me instead, cutie?”

This time, I was a good enough actor to hide my wince. “How did she get here?”

“Your nanny passed her off to me ten, fifteen minutes ago.”

As much as loved my cousin, she was going to get a strip torn off her back when I flushed her out of hiding. Or worse, I was going to dock her pay. After I smooth-talked my uncle into letting her mind Mira while I was filming, she was doing this to me!

“Come on, then, Elfling. Time for lunch.” I clapped and held my hands out.

Mira shook her head. “Bahd.”

“I could feed her,” Brad offered.

I crossed my arms, doubtful. “Gummi worms?”

He waved away my worry. “Naw, c’mon. Those baby food jars. I’ve taken care of my little cousins before. I know which end is which.”

“I don’t know--“ I began just as a knock sounded on the door.

“Excuse me, Brad, is Orlando in there?” The voice was muffled but familiar not only to me but Mira as well.

“Bee!” she squealed, bopping her diaper-clad bottom up and down Brad’s thigh, kicking him where a man should not be kicked even by an infant. “Bee, Bee, Bee, Bee!”

Well, you couldn’t keep Sean out at that. The door slammed open. In came Sean in all is Odyssean glory. “Princess Mira! Give us a smooch!”

“Beeeeeee! Bahd bee pah beeeee!” The little tart was just in ecstasy now. Brad moved her wriggling body further down his leg where it could do less damage.

Swooping leather, linen and dust down on us all, Sean nipped Mira out of Brad’s hold and lifted her as high as the trailer would allow. “I missed you, Elfling. Did you miss you favourite uncle?”

“I thought that was Ian,” I teased.

“To hell with that. The princess and I are tight as twins, eh, love?” He blew a raspberry on her belly. Mira screeched, loving every minute, grasping handfuls of Sean’s hair. "Here you go, love. A wee present for being such a sweetheart." He popped a lolly in her hand.

“Thrown over for an older man bearing gifts.” Brad put a hand to his chest, trying to look devastated.

“It’s not older men,” I told him. “It’s anyone with blue eyes. The little narcissist. Sean, you'll rot what little teeth she has." Frowning, I tried to snatch the sweet but Sean batted me away.

"I've given my daughters lollipops before and their teeth are just fine." I hate it when he pulls the older-and-wiser-father bit on me.

Brad got up, lifting his cap to give his hair a quick brush, then jammed it back on. “Well, I'm off to lunch. If she changes her mind about our date, I’ll be at the caterer’s trailer. Bye, cutie.” Brad laid a loud kiss on Mira’s cheek before he left.

We headed for the caterer's, too. Mira's arms were well and truly wrapped around Sean's neck as she babbled in grunts and monosyllables. Don't get me wrong, I love that everyone loves Mira. She is the prettiest child I'd ever seen. And I appreciate how everyone wants to help take care of her; I'm sure my cousin/minder doesn't mind either. I just wish that sometimes, once in a while, they'd remember that she's my bloody child and let me have a chance to hold her when she's not crying. Is that too much to ask?

"Viggo just called," said Sean as he tried to extricate his hair from Mira's fists. "They're just outside of town."

"Brilliant. And everyone else on set is coming." Nudging Mira's chin, I cooed (shut-up; I'm a father, I'm allowed to coo now and again), "You lucky girl. You've got pretty posh guests for your A-day party. You and I can watch Auntie Sam faint when she sees Brad, yeah?"

Half-way to the tent, Claire hailed us. We bowed in response then started to convulse.

"My eyes!" Sean cried out. "Oh, the brilliance. The brightness! I can't look any more; I might go blind with the beauty!"

I covered my face. "I'm having a heart attack from that one peek! Did she see me? Oh, praise be, did she deign to glance my way?"

"Shut up, both of you." Claire flipped her hair to one side, all blushes and frowns. "You're too much, really. Tucker's almost all gone. Fortunately for you, princess, I got you a snack." She slipped between me and Sean holding a small cup. "Ice cream!"

"Claire, no!" Positive that the social worker was going to decend any moment, I gave the vista a three-sixty scan. Nothing yet, fortunately.

"Stop being so stuffy." She sent me an admonish look. "One scoop of ice cream won't hurt her. It's so hot out here; I'm sure she's wilting in that robe."

That robe was nothing more than a long-sleeved tunic made of light cotton. She might as well be naked.

Mira opened her mouth. "Ahhhh!" and Claire promptly filled it with sugary-dairy badness.

"You liked that didn't you, darling? Another bite?"

I was beginning to wonder if I were invisible. "She'll get a tummyache."

"So young and so staid already." Sean shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Whatever will your adoring fans say?"

"If I've as many fans as you claim, I'm sure they'd agree with me."

No more than a yard from the savoury-scented trailers, Eric cut across our path. Eric's a wanker. He got everyone to insist that Paris keep falling off of things; towers, horses, Helen's bed. In "celebration" of our experiences on Black Hawk Down, supposedly. The manky prat.

"Hey, mates. I heard on the radio you've got a busfull of guests. Mira's A-day party's tonight, eh?" He poked a finger in Mira's direction for her to hold. Which she did with much pleasure.

"Yeah."

"Great!" He fished around in his plate and came up with a chunk of strawberry tart oozing with glaze. "Want a celebratory bite, love?"

I threw my hands up. "I suppose it's useless for me to talk about cavities and the food pyramid?"

"We're working our way down," said Eric blithely.

"Witty today, are we?"

"Anal today, are we?" he mimicked. He gave Mira another smear of glaze.

Giving him an expression that was all love, Mira sighed, "Aaaiiik."

"She said my name!" Eric lifted her into his arms much to Sean's reluctance. She nuzzled sugar into his costume. Served him right, the prat.

My daughter, the man-killer. I shuddered to think of her years after puberty. Maybe I should start looking up convent schools by tonight.

The one thing I could still pride myself on despite everyone's attempts to steal Mira away from me was the fact that only I could feed her properly on her high chair and all. With anyone else, she'd be coy or simply refuse flat out. This was both good and bad. Good since it was a snap to feed her. Bad if we got out of schedule and Mira got hungry. A hungry Elfling is a cranky Elfling.

"Heeeeeeeeere comes the nasty Nazgul! What do Elflings do to nasty Nazguls?"

"AHHHHHHH!" screamed Mira, fairly leaping out of her chair to chomp at her spoon.

"That looks vile," commented Eric from the sidelines. "Looks like something my dog chucked up."

"Go to hell, Bana."

"Aaiik!" Mira contributed. A bit of creamed spinach drooled from the corner of her mouth.

Eric made a face. "I don't know how she does it, mate."

"Maybe unlike you Neanderthals, Mira knows what's good for her, eh, love?" I scooped up some more spinach. "More Nazgul?"

Promptly opening her mouth, Mira went "Ahh!"

The spoon was half-way to her mouth when an explosion of sound came from the entrance.

"There's our Elfling!" The extended Fellowship and my family mobbed our bench. Much kissing, hugging, and back-slapping abounded and when it all ended, Mira's creamed spinach and orange juice disappeared. In its place was a chocolate cake that would send a diabetic into a coma by just looking at it.

"What's this?" I demanded superfluously.

Sam nudged my shoulder none too gently. "Mira's A-day cake, silly! Chocolate sponge cake with fudge icing and chocolate-chip cookie dough between the layers."

"And sugar flowers." Nick pointed out the huge bouquet in glaring primary colours. As if it could be missed.

"It's impressive," I allowed. My imaginary diabetic just died. It wasn't pretty.

"It's Elf's first A-day," said Viggo from behind his hand-held camera. "Everyone else's presents are still in the truck. We'll get everything ready while you wrap up filming."

"Boh!" Mira shrieked, holding her hands out to Viggo.

"Heya, cutie." He leaned down to give her a kiss. "I've missed you. You been good?"

"Pah bahd kahhh bee!"

"Is that right?"

"Pahh kah. Baba kah keee."

"Damn, that's exciting."

"Boo pah?"

"No, not really. I got a good sleep."

"Kahh bee pfft."

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

Eric leaned over. "Does he really understand what she's saying?"

I shook my head. "I honestly think so sometimes."

He whistled and tucked back into his plate. Knowing that I was defeated, I let my mother take Mira out of her chair. The mob followed them out the tent like rats after the Pied Piper. Only Sam stayed behind, slipping in beside me.

"Why so glum, chum?"

I lifted my shoulders. "The social worker's here for a check in. I wanted to impress her by having a nutritious A-day party, yeah?"

She laughed. "I'm sure, veggies or no, she's impressed, you silly git. Truly, Orli, you get into such a tizzy about these things it's rather funny. In a sad, pathetic way."

I tried to pout but it was no good. Not when Sam was here. Not when Mum was here. Not when the best friends in the world went out of their way to come to Malta to celebrate the anniversary of the day Mira officially became a Bloom in the eyes of the law in both the UK and the States. And especially not when the goofs re-entered with Mira in a litter and a miniature coronet on her head.

"You're missing your own party, you plonker!"

Sam and I rose to join them.

.