We’ve been watching the Olympics every night. The following conversation occurred:

ME: Hey, isn’t that guy Brent Musburger? I thought he only did football. [on the commentator]

MAN: No, honey. That’s Bob Costas.

ME: [pause] No way. It’s Brent Musburger. I’d know that face anywhere.

MAN: [sighs] No. It’s Bob Costas.

ME: Are you sure? Because I’d swear that guy is Brent Musburger. You know. He does a lot of sports.

MAN: Honey. It’s Bob.Costas.

ME: [long pause] Really? [pause] Are you sure?

MAN: I’m going to look it up. [whips out blackberry; punches buttons] See? Bob. Costas. [he doesn't bother to hide the triumph in his voice]

ME: Well, he lookslike Brent Musburger.

MAN: [sighs heavily]

ME: Don’t you think so?

MAN: No, honey. He looks like Bob Costas.

ME: [pause as we watch more Olympics] I still say he looks like Brent Musburger.

MAN: Well if that’s the case, then someone needs to tell him to stop using Bob Costas’s face.

So he was right and I was wrong. I’m adult enough to admit that.

But I still say he looks like Brent Musburger.