Last night, The Wife held another man’s Emmy. She pronounced it large.
I actually enjoyed it.
...........
We made an astonishingly long trek using every mode of transport other than dogsled to see “The Colbert Report” last night. It was a hoot. We were in the front row, so we got to do the high-fives with him. The highlight was the pre-show q&a, during which Colbert took a few questions from the audience. He called on The Wife.
TW (Coquetteishly): Can I touch your Emmy?
SC: Touch my Emmy?
TW (Blinking seductively): Yes, please.
SC: It isn’t insured for other people’s skin oils. Oh, hell. You want to touch my Emmy?
TW: Yes.
SC: What about the Peabody?
TW: The Emmy.
SC: Yeah, nobody cares about the Peabody. (Brings her the Emmy from the mantle)
SC: Don’t hold it inappropriately.
TW cradled it like a baby for several seconds.
SC: Give it back! (Grabs it)
Connie Chung was the guest, which was a pity. We were hoping for someone interesting. The only point of interest there is that she is amazingly short. A wee thing, really.
The show was great fun, and The Wife got to hold an Emmy. Even though we got back home last night (after picking up the kids) at an absurd hour, and we spent most of the day in transit in various ways, it was worth it. And I’m secure enough not to be threatened by another man’s Emmy. No matter what size. Really.
