There's a really interesting profile of Michelle Obama in today's Wall Street Journal. I say "interesting," because it struck me as I was reading the article how some of the things that will not play well with the usual WSJ crowd are precisely the same things that play well with women like me, who tend to be rather fond of Mrs. Obama.
I can totally imagine how a buttoned-up stuffed shirt with skin as white as his collar would bristle at the portrait of a strong, unapologetically opinionated black woman who has the temerity to "emasculate" her husband by announcing to the world that he's "snore-y and stinky" in the morning, leaves out the butter, and isn't a perfect husband—because, of course, a business wife's primary role is to make sure the whole world knows her husband's shit doesn't stink.
Michelle Obama has other priorities.
And, had I not already been smiling just because Michelle Obama seems like a woman I'd like to know, the thought of Mr. Starch E. Fussybritches, Esq. grimacing at the thought of that woman being our First Lady would itself would have brought a huge grin to my face.