Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Dear J, When I got home last night, there was a familiar car in our driveway. I text you "Jerk Face!" It's a thing we do, you and I. You call me "brat face" and I call you "jerk face." It's very romantic. Anywho, you were sitting in the family room with the children with boxes of new, fun stuff to entertain our family while on our St. George trip and during our summer months outside. I almost cried, but I didn't. You told Jackson that you would make dinner so that he didn't have to. You asked Braxton where his report was that was due on Friday. You told Colton to change out of his wet clothes. You made dinner. You sat with Kaydon for a good 45 minutes while he cried, screamed, yelled, cried, screamed, yelled, and then cried some more. The whole time you told him it was okay to cry because you cry too and then you did your silly things to get him to laugh. When I went downstairs to change my clothes, I was shocked to see a new nightstand (a BEAUTIFUL) nightstand and tv on my dresser. It was from you to me. It meant the world. You asked Nana, as always, if she needed anything. You tucked boys into bed. You watched The Voice with me just to humor me. You hugged me goodnight and you went home. I love you, J.