Ira Glass is something else. He’s smart. He’s funny. He’s nerdy-sexy. Terrifically so.

In other words, my type.

But my husband defies all adjectives, without the glasses.

So you can imagine that when my mother-in-law told me—after I took this picture, panting, sweating, fanning myself—that she was giving these glasses to my nephew, Thanksgiving almost got ugly. Had my sweet nephew not seen that they truly belong on someone else, I might have been the fugitive on CNN this past weekend.