At 8:30 a.m. — I know the time, because I was running to an event — on Monday, I ran into Newt Gingrich in the lobby of the Hyatt
Regency in Jacksonville.
There he was, the man running to become the leader of the United States of America, which as he says is a country like no other ever in history. Anyway, he was also carrying a little plate with two muffins on it, and said sheepishly that he was taking them upstairs to his wife Callista.
(Yes, you would think that in the heat of battle, on the day before the Florida primary, he’d have had a lot going on. And no, this was not a Motel 8 but a place fit for elites; the place did have room service.) There was one other guy with him, but it was Newt who was carrying the muffins.
When I told him Callista doesn’t look like a big muffin-eater, he laughed. “She picks at them,” he said. And so do I pick Newt, for attending to his wife at such a moment, as a hubby to be emulated on the breakfast front. But doesn’t she drink coffee?
Karen Tumulty is a Post political reporter. Follow her on Twitter at @KTumulty.