The reason that I mention this is that it marches in merry lockstep with the preposterous belief that having managed to give birth has made her wise in the ways of the world and endowed her with insight into who is best for her babies. Thus the smirking noise about how someday, the inert, whining, morose and daydreaming slob Anthony will be a world-beater instead of what he is: a dimwit who's going to spend his life sighing because he can't maintain the illusion that Liz is the person he dreamed she was. He won't say anything or act on the impulse because it would mean admitting to having played his cards stupidly but he'll be aware on some level that he made Lizardbreath up.
It cuts both ways, though. The Patterson family have no vested interest in admitting that they spent their lives backing the wrong horse when they championed him. No one who's ever been the victim of a con (self-induced or not) ever does make the mistake of admitting to having shat the bed as heroically as the Pattersons did when they embraced the gormless and gloomy shlub to their bosoms. Allowances will be made for his being the slug he was born to be and a wife's moodiness and irrationality will be blamed for his hoping someday being forceful enough a personality to be compared to a limp dish-rag.