Why Do We Fight? Blame It on Our Brains.
My husband is smart. Super smart. Like, not only does he devour fat history books, but he can talk about them in an engaging manner that's neither stuffy nor oversimplified. He's good with numbers, too. And he knows the meaning of Latin root words -- a big turn-on to a crossword-puzzle addict like me. (He had me at salve.)
love his brain. It's Joe's dominant quadrants I could do without. Recently, I got absolutely walloped by his lower left.
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