My dear, sweet, loving husband, where do I even begin? I know you've been working like a dog for months now, what with being the head of the department, coaching tennis, finishing your National Board program and being an all around stellar father and husband, but there are a few things I need your help with:
Um, the dryer is broken. Again.
And the painting in our room needs to be finished. The doc vetoed me doing anymore.
Uh, the baby's room and all that entails. So sorry about that.
And of course the fence. Needs to be built.
The pool and all that stuff.
Landscaping. A few shrubs here and there would be nice.
The raising of Sienna would really help me out since she and I are currently locked in a battle with no end in sight.
And I'd love a back rub. Sometime.
Other than that, I think we're good. I know you've been leaving the house every morning before seven and returning around nine, so I've scheduled some work time for you between 2 and 5 a.m. You can get by on little sleep, right?
Thanks Bug. You're the best. And I mean that completely.