Emma Thompson is my new god.
She says of her husband, the extremely handsome Greg Wise:
“There are lots of nice things about British men. For instance, they can be very funny and very self-deprecating. In Britain, you very rarely get the sort of macho self-confidence of the Latin man who is so out there and sort of: ‘Yes! Of course! I’m lovely!’ I like that about them.
“But, on the other hand, when it comes to emotions, they can also be… Well, let’s face it, they can be just fantastically retarded, can’t they? Almost to the point of lower case autism, really.
“I’ve been with him for fourteen years now, and it’s sort of like living with a clam. I try and try and try to open the shell, and, yes, after all these years, I have managed to get it very slightly open – and then, sometimes, it shuts again and I have to start all over again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with it, and very happily married. But it is the way it is.”
She’s completely, totally right. I feel the same way about my other half, and god knows I call him a retard on a regular basis.
But then, what’s the alternative?
Emotional Retard or Marc Anthony. You decide.