You and Bob had been dating for a while and it was finally time for him to meet your family. He was a nervous wreck about it, fussing with his collar in the mirror, running up and down your apartment like a man preparing for a job interview instead of Sunday dinner.

He had been asking you questions all afternoon.

"Bob..." you said, trying to suppress a smile as he held up two nearly identical shirts for your approval.

"Should I change shirt? Also tie or no tie?" he asked, brows furrowed in serious contemplation.

"It doesn't matter, baby. You look perfect," you replied, walking over to straighten the shirt already on him.

He was flustered, but adorably so—checking his breath, smoothing his hair, rehearsing your parents' names under his breath like they were part of a final exam.

"I just want to make a good impression," he said, finally pausing to look at you.