A thank you letter to my husband
I just wanted to say thanks.
For waiting until I’ve photographed your food before you start eating (even when you’re starving).
For getting us to the airport waaay too early, even if it means that we’ll be sitting around for the better part of an hour, because you know I freak if I think we’re running late.
For teaching me to appreciate things.
For helping me in my never-ending quest for cake.
For actually thinking I’m funny. Sometimes.
For not criticizing me when I try on every single outfit I’m about to pack for a trip beforehand, in order to properly coordinate accessories and shoes.
For encouraging me (and this blog).
For stuff like this:
For covering up any and all lights in our hotel room (whether they be emitted by cell phones, laptops, or alarm clocks) because you know I can’t sleep unless it’s pitch black.
For making me smile.
For packing me snacks before every trip.
For agreeing to go along to all the dorky, stupid attractions and tourist traps I insist on visiting (and for occasionally even agreeing to have fun while we’re there).
For keeping me warm.
For never, ever, getting fed up with me.
For insisting that I try to see the bright side of things, and the good in everyone (like you do).
For being so damn handsome.
For the last two years, and more.
Happy Anniversary, babe.
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