Look, people have to deal with their lives. We all have shit, we all have problems, we all have crazy relatives, you know, that should be in a closet somewhere, but Leah, she was quite the diva, she really was.
One time—one time I almost smacked her. She came to New York to visit. And she wanted us to meet her for dinner. And we were like, “Okay,” you know. We drove to Manhattan, it’s twenty minutes, alright. And she was in her diva mode. And we got up to the hotel and Nicole [Leah’s sister] was there and her assistants were there and all these, “Oh yes, Leah.” “Oh yes, Leah.” “Oh yes, Leah.” I said, “When are we eating?” You know, I waited. She was on the phone, she was doing this, doing that…I said, “Alright, hold it. We came to see you.”
It was crazy. It was really—you know, I was like, “I have to eat.” You know, and she’s like, “Yeah, yeah.” I says, “I’m leaving. Goodbye.” Because I can’t be bothered. You know, I’m not your fan. I’m not your toady. I’m your stepmother. I wiped your ass. So—so basically, I don’t want to hear it, you know. And I left—I was leaving. And she says, “Dommy, where are you going?”
I says, “Leah, understand. I don’t want to sit here and watch all this nonsense. You wanted us to come and see you. You said we’re having dinner. I’ve been here an hour and a half, I’m still starving and I don’t like the attitude. So, when you have time, I’ll see you.” She was like, “No! No! We’re doing it right now!”
But still, it’s the mentality. It’s that—it’s that: “I’m a diva.”
When she became an adult, I expected her to behave as an adult and don’t be a freaking diva. I mean, listen, she never got treated as a diva in our house, okay. But when she became well known, okay, and she started having a pretty big following and everything, then she—then she got like a “diva.” Alright, and I was like, “Excuse me. Uh-uh.”
But I imagine that in a lot of ways, you can’t help being that way—because Hollywood is filled with ass-kissers. Everybody’s looking to upgrade, so to speak. Everybody’s looking to advance their career and upgrade and, you know, it’s all, “Hi, how are you?!” And it’s bullshit, it’s bullshit. But yet you think all these people are, you know, adoring you but that’s not real life. They’re not adoring you, they’re adoring—they like who they see on TV. They don’t know you, whether you’re good or bad. That’s not real, none of that is real.
It’s not as if she’s an A-list something. You’re a freaking TV sitcom. What are these people, crazy? You know, but…they don’t know what a nasty bitch you could be.