And how do I know? He just turned the main television to "Hanson: Best 5 of 5", brought me a cookie and milk, and walked out of the room. He's quietly watching basketball on the teeny-tiny upstairs t.v. while his wife resists the urge to boogie as her middle school (and high school... and college) crushes play some tunes that make her feel uncharacteristically giddy.
That's how I know.
So admit it. My husband is better than yours.
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