He was sitting on his barcalounger – laptop perched on some super-cool geek contraption, specially made for husbands with a yen for techno-lazy design – all smug and nerdy; too-large computer screen ablaze, watching obscure documentaries on You Tube…about hockey.
I snarled my forehead and for a moment forgot why I loved him.
“Where did the name come from?” he quipped, with the vulnerable twang of an unsure man clinging tightly to his ostensibly superior intellect.
“Svengali? [scoff] “Really? You don’t know who Svengali was!?”
“What!? You do!?”
“Dummy, Svengali is an ancient Hindu God.”
Licking his cocktail-party chops, eyebrows raised, he let out an alpha, “Really. Good to know. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m fracking sure,” flew out of my trap as I leaned into the closest keyboard to Google the shat out of “Svengali” to prove MY superiority.
“Anti-Semitic character in a 19th century novel,” was what I discovered…and then had to admit..to my Jewish husband.
Moral of the story: Never – and I mean NEVER – turn to Google to prove your husband wrong if you’re not 100% sure. Remember ladies, they must never doubt our omnipotence – and stupid Svengali slip-ups could crumble the façade. Trust me, I haven’t heard the end of it…seven days later…and I’m fairly certain that “You were wrong!” will be the epitaph on my grave.