It was the third time that day that Satoru was doing this, crying on your shoulder while you were cuddling on the bed together and all because your sixteen year old daughter had said she was going out with a friend. A boy.

"Babe! I'm sure this friend of hers is just another womanizer!"

He says in a dramatic tone, like a child throwing an unnecessary tantrum. The way your husband said it barely seemed like in the past he not was identical to what he described about the boy, a womanizer.