In a moment of pure brilliance, our third roommate walked into the kitchen and notified Annie and I (in the midst of yelling at each other) that we were a perfect combination of the entire cast of Modern Family.
Claire and Phil are obvious. Annie is the crazy, bossy, nutjob-wife. I'm the tries-too-hard-and-fails, cool dad.
Also obvious: two people obsessed with Broadway musicals that 'coddle' their child. I think physique and history (football player from what Annie refers to as a 'farm town') makes me Cam. Annie is the one who would love a Lavender tour and can't stand bugs (Mitchell), and Angel's our little, adopted, Vietnamese daughter (or male Australian Shepherd).
The last one was truly brilliant. I turned to our roomie and quipped "Umm.. I'm not old and she's not hot." She responded with, "Actually, Annie is the old one [true] and you Latin dance, so I was thinking the other way around." Add in the fact that Annie is our breadwinner and Angel is also a genius, and it's perfect.
No wonder we love Modern Family so much. The writers have set up secret cameras and bugs in our house, and they're literally writing about our life. They've just managed to put better faces on it. The gay couple's an extraordinarily well thought out caricature of us.
Last night's (paraphrased) notable quotable:
"What do you mean the attic is too small. Grandpa said you lived in a closet growing up." Little, wonderful, blissfully ignorant Luke to flaming, gay Uncle Mitch.
Good call, ABC. Good call,