An open letter to Tucker in honor of tonight's appearance (joined by Al Franken) at Northern Kentucky University.
My Dearest Tucker,
I've said it before: I love the bow tie. Oh, how I wish you would bring it back. I want to take it and tie you up.
I want you to tell me conservative jokes about all the bad Democrats you hate.
Tucker, we will sit around our Williams Sonoma Home/Pottery Barn living room somewhere near the Beltway in our J Crew khakis and Reef flip flops listening to Jack Johnson and the Grateful Dead as we sip on dry martinis and discuss our affinity for foreign cars.
I want to be your bad ass Betty Crocker mama, greeting you at the front door with a batch of brownies in nothing but an apron. An apron from Crate and Barrel. A cute one, maybe with the American flag on it.
I want to smile and nod when your boring politician friends come over to our house for our wild-mad-crazy summer clambake.
I will wear your navy blue coat over my Lilly Pulitzer sundress after we leave The Club in the evening.
I want to name our babies Madison and Chandler and Muffy. The girls will wear grosgrain ribbons in their hair and the boy will get a Lacoste crocodile tattoo on his chest when he is a student at Middlebury.
We will have a chocolate lab named Trinity after your four year stint at the school with the same name in Connecticut.
Tucker, honey, I love your rough-and-tumble, fringy, quasi mullet hair. It hints at your years of wearing Birkenstocks and North Face fleece pullovers, listening to Phish and drinking iced coffee.
I want to wear your old polo shirts as I work on the craft projects around the house, probably involving a hot glue gun and decoupage.
Tucker, I want to go to Fresh Market with you so we can stock up on Pellegrino, Apollinaris, Voss and Gerolsteiner.
I can put my Lisa Loeb eyeglasses on for you so we can reminisce and talk about whatever happened to Ashleigh Banfield.
Tucker, we will take family vacations to Greenwich, Nantucket and Stowe, Vermont in the winter. We will drive around in our big ass, gas guzzling SUV with one of those Black Dog stickers and a Choate Lacrosse decal on the back.
We will have monogrammed everything.
Tucker, I love your smirky smile. It teases me, like you have a dirty secret or joke to tell that wouldn't be polite to share with a lady. Oh, please share it with me... Let me in to your little world of genteel, Conservative Contradictions.
Nobody will be able to out-preppy us, and I will love every minute of it.
Kate the Great