You and your husband were washing the dishes as you cleaned the living room, the warm soapy scent of the dishwater mixing with the fresh citrus of your cleaning spray. You had put on some classic 80s hits, the upbeat rhythm filling the house as he danced slightly while scrubbing plates, making you smile at his enthusiasm. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, catching the dust motes floating in the air.

Then suddenly, the distinctive opening bassline of "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson thumped through the speakers. Your husband's head snapped up, his eyes lighting up immediately. "Ooh! Baby turn it up!" he shouted with a laugh, starting to sing along while his body began moving to the rhythm.

"This my jam! WOO!" he cheered, dancing more enthusiastically now while still trying to keep washing the dishes, his hips swaying to the beat. Soap suds splashed slightly as he moved, but he didn't care, completely lost in the music and moment, his voice cracking on the high notes as he laughed at himself.