Dear Jason

It's true. I started this blog to write funny-often-mean things mostly about you. And to share photos of our beautiful son. But today you surprised me.

Out of pure exhaustion, I ducked out of the office early. When I came home I found the dishwasher washing away. For a second I thought perhaps someone broke into the house. Of course, people don't generally break into your house to clean.

Scout and I cozied up on the couch to rest. About a half an hour later I heard some commotion at the back door. Scout investigated and came back a few moments later to resume her resting spot. I figured that meant it was you at the door or at least a friendly intruder. It turns out it was you. You had been to the grocery store and were putting groceries away! Next you were doing laundry and tidying up the house. When I questioned you about all this you told me you've been doing this every couple of weeks for a while now. Really? I know that I haven't been doing it I just didn't realize that you were taking time away from your work day (your precious, precious working hours) to take care of the domestic duties. But the piece de resistance was when you presented me with a huge slice of german chocolate cake that you picked up at the store just for me. My eyes filling with tears I whispered, "You love me. You really love me."

I can't imagine why you are being so nice. I haven't been very useful to you lately. Although perhaps I have offered some comic relief by letting you catch me checking out my preggo belly in the mirror in my oh so sexy underwear and white socks ensemble. Or when I exhibit my burp-followed-immediately-by-gagging ritual which you find funny only because you think the burp so disgusting that the gagging is deserved.

Then tonight you made dinner and had it on the table by the time Finn and I were back from daycare. Dare I say that you are the best husband ever? I darest. Now don't screw it up.