What If Alice Munro Married Margaret Atwood?

Last weekend Ellen DeGeneres married Portia de Rossi. What a couple. Ellen--the comedienne, producer, actress--marries Portia--the actress, producer, comedienne. They're now just Jason Bateman's sperm and a Toys R' Us away from a perfect life.

The whole thing made me wonder what would happen if Margaret Atwood married Alice Munro. Gay marriage is legal in Canada, and the Canadian arts scene lacks a true power couple. We've got Ivan Fecan and Sandra Faire-Fecan, but I'm talking about real people: gritty, strident, reclusive, talented people. And since Pauline Jewett and Grace Hartman are dead, Alice and Margaret are the natural choice. Yeah, Alice and Margaret could really make this country an okay place in which to live.

I can picture them walking hand-in-hand toward Pusateri's on Avenue Road.

Alice: We're out of milk.
Margaret: It doesn't expire till Wednesday.
Alice: It's Thursday.
Margaret: Since when?
Alice: This morning.
Margaret: It was just Tuesday.
Alice: Two days ago.
Margaret: And you say that it's Thursday?
Alice: Right.
Margaret: I just remembered something!
Alice: What?
Margaret: We need milk.

And what domestic bliss. Here we find the two writers sitting down to dinner:

Alice: Don't forget the corn. It's in the microwave.
Margaret: I won't forget it.
Alice: You always forget it.
Margaret: No balsamic vinegar on my salad.
Alice: I know you don't like balsamic vinegar. Why would I put it on your salad?
Margaret: What's that dressing that I like?
Alice: Honey mustard?
Margaret: No. It's French. We had it a few weeks ago at Sotto Sotto.
Alice: That's an Italian restaurant.
Margaret: And they don't have French dressing? Do they serve Perrier?
Alice: We were not at Sotto Sotto a few weeks ago. You're thinking of Susur.
Margaret: No. I'm thinking of Sotto Sotto.
Alice: Well, you're wrong.
Margaret: Oh, wait! I just remembered: Renee's. That's the dressing.
Alice: That's a brand, not a flavour.
Margaret: Are you sure?
Alice: [A ringing is heard in the background] Get the phone. It's probably for you.
Margaret: Fuck. It's probably Nino Ricci again.

And together at night, getting ready for bed.

Margaret: Where's my toothbrush?
Alice: Where did you leave it?
Margaret: Beside the sink.
Alice: Then that's where it is.
Margaret: It's not there.
Alice: So where is it?
Margaret: If I knew that would I be asking?
Alice: I didn't touch your toothbrush.
Margaret: Well I didn't move it.
Alice: I certainly didn't.
Margaret: Then where is it?
Alice: [Looking in the garbage can] Here!
Margaret: Why's it in the garbage?
Alice: You must've thrown it out.
Margaret: I did not.
Alice: Then you must've knocked it into there by accident.
Margaret: I never!
Alice: I don't know what to say. I didn't touch it.
Margaret: Right!
Alice: So what are you going to do now? Not brush your teeth?
Margaret: I already did. I got a new thing yesterday at the dentist's.
Alice: A new toothbrush?
Margaret: Yes.
Alice: Then maybe you threw out the old one.
Margaret: Why would I throw it out? I don't even need it anymore.

Or just walking along Yonge Street.

Alice: I want children.
Margaret: We've had this discussion.
Alice: My mind hasn't changed.
Margaret: It's not a good idea.
Alice: You always say that.
Margaret: It's true.
Alice: It is NOT true.
Margaret: Alice, It's just not possible.
Alice: Why?
Margaret: Because: neither of us drives a white van.

A reality TV show that I would watch.