Robin

And you all thought I would be pushing up daisies by now. Truth be told, so did I. Thank goodness that bite was all bark. I'm alive! And excited beyond belief, because, besides being alive...

... my hubby comes home on Sunday! Talk about excitement!!! I am over the moon. Only two more sleeps in my lonely abode. It's been the longest two weeks of my life! I can't wait to see his gorgeous face and hold his hands again. His hands are always warm. I love that about him. And I love the sound of his breathing after he's just fallen asleep. That, to me, is the sound of home. I love how he loves children. And pets. I love his naughty laugh. And his bad sense of humour. By bad I mean - not bad bad... but that type of bad that's all about being naughty. Not bad, as in he doesn't have a sense of humour. Well, you know what I mean. I love how he hugs me. I love that he doesn't bring me flowers on special days. Because that would be "expected." I love that he can't really dance. I love that he laughs out loud. Often.

I love that he wants to do every mountain bike race ever created. Even though most times he limps over the finish line! I love that every child he's ever met remembers his name and that he's a load of fun. I love that when I phone my nephew (three and a half year old), the first thing he asks me is "Is Wobin there?" I love that he knows how to tease. And that he has clear blue eyes. I love that he's adventurous with his hairdo's. And by hairdo's I mean facial hair. Seeing as he's bald and all. Robin reckons that God only made so many perfect heads, the rest He covered with hair! haha. And when that comment becomes old he says that grass doesn't grow on busy roads. haha. And I love that I know him well enough to know that that's what he would say. Even before he says it.I love that he encourages me to play the piano. I love that he's been trying to play the harmonica for about four years. And can still only play Amazing Grace.

I love the way he always wants to take "toys" with him wherever he goes. Like his mountain bike. Or his longboard. Or his sector nine skateboard. Or his hardley. I love that he tries to make up the bed when he wakes up. But I always have to straighten the

linen out after he's left. I love how he loves Jesus. I love that he's passionate about mission work. I love that he's thoughtful and kind. And that he loves me.

I love that he's never been angry at me for being infertile. I love that he always tries his best. And doesn't give up easily. I love that he's adored by my family. All of them. Aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, friends. I love that my friends have become his friends. I love that he isn't perfect. But he is perfect for me. I. Just. Love. Him .