Dear Mr. Robinson

It's Friday night and you've got that wild look in your eye that makes me think perhaps your week was even longer and more stressful than mine was. And I'm wondering if I've been doing everything I possibly can for you, and I'm inclined to think not. Like for instance, telling you how phenomenal you are in everything you do. How awesome it was that you ripped out the linoleum in our entry and stayed up until 2 am for a week laying tile just because I complained about never having any time for household projects. It looks fabulous by the way. Or how you totally encouraged me to go up to Logan last week and just chill with my lovely family and remember who I am again, even though it meant leaving you a lone man for 2 days to fend for yourself.

Last Friday you donned a striped t-shirt, striped socks, stocking cap and pillow in your belly, just so you could help me complete my dream of having a complete Peter Pan family for Halloween. Only a man truly confident in himself would do that. You didn't whine at all, you were excited!!! You even came up with the pillow idea, and you walked around our neighborhood showing off your duds to all our friends. You are the sexiest Smee I've ever seen, by the way.

You woke me up two days before our anniversary with a dozen red roses and then swept me away to California for 4 days. That was... there aren't words. I wrote a scene about that, just for you.

You left work early and drove all the way down to American Fork after that hideous owner at the Jewelry store screamed at me over the wedding ring they were supposed to be fixing and made much worse. I was really worried that you would end up in a fist fight. If that guy would scream at a little 4' 10" woman towing three little kids, what was he going to do when you got there? I don't know how you did it, but I ended up at the jewelry store an hour later with the owner apologizing to my face, because you calmly explained to him that it was unacceptable for him to speak to me that way and that he needed to apologize to my face. What a man you are! You were so kind when we went back to have him apologize to me. So kind to me, and to the man. I kept watching the shock on his face as you treated him with so much respect and understanding.

You never lose your temper at me. You never yell, even though I deserve it sometimes. You never do, even when other people would. You always know what's best for me. Even when I'm being my stubborn, stinky self. When I inevitably do follow your advice... you're always right. It doesn't bother me. I like it. Were you born with that much wisdom?

I like that sometimes at night when I'm still awake and you are totally asleep you'll unconsciously roll over and grab me and pull me tighter into you. It used to be, that I needed my space to sleep, but now I like sleeping tangled up in you. I like that you want me close even when you're unaware.

We've been exercising more consistently, and I've got to tell you love, you've got a hot body...

Also, you were right (again) running is the best way for me to slim down, without bundles of time for exercising, plus, I'm liking it again. Maybe we'll get around to that 5k we've been talking about?

But tonight, I'm going to finish this letter to you, and maybe I'll go get you some Breyer's out of the freezer, I'm like 90 percent sure I've got some raspberries in there too. I bet you'd like that. I'm not going to massage your back, because you don't like to be massaged... it tickles you too much, but I will find some other way to let you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, and the kids, and the young men in our ward, and your family, and mine, and it goes on and on. How you hold us together, and it wouldn't work without you. And I bless the Sunday I opened my front door to meet my new hometeacher, and looked at my future husband for the first time, and a shock ran down my spine because you were "the one." You still are, love... the only one.

Love,

Mrs. Robinson.