March 8, 2006
I’m married to Mr. Incredible.
I mean, I always knew he was good. Perhaps even great.
But then, the movie came out. And I was sitting there, in the theater, noticing that my husband looked and acted exactly like the cartoon character.
No super powers. But the scene where he’s slumped over the desk, scowling and messing with pencils? And the scene where he rips the door off the car?
That’s definitely my husband.
He’s never actually ripped the door off the car. But after a day at work, he looks like he wants to.
And there is the uncanny physical resemblance.
Everyone has noticed this.
Except my husband.
My son’s friends point it out. As do their parents. At a swim meet, Jim was told that a couple of little girls wanted his autograph. His brother gave him an Incredibles afghan to sleep with, when he went up north for hunting season.
Jim says, “You mean I look like an animated Craig T. Nelson?”
I say, “No. You look like you were sneaking out of the house and going to Pixar to pose for that character. Tell me the truth. You weren’t really working late all those nights, were you? You were on a secret mission.”
We go to the World Science Fiction Convention, every year. I think, this year, the DH needs a costume. I have the technology. And I can’t resist.
No capes, dahling. No capes.
But what I really want to know is: when do I get to look like Holly Hunter?
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