somebody's on the hot tamale train.

If your husband surprises you with tickets to watch your favorite guilty pleasure live at the Rose Garden, you should be impressed.

If your husband was raised by non-dancing Baptists, you should be very impressed.

If he does all of this while nursing bronchitis and still manages to set up childcare and a room at Kennedy School, you should probably scream Mary Murphy-style whenever he walks into a room for at least a week.

I love you, Nate. You still manage to surprise me.