Open Letter to my Future Husband

Dear Future Husband,

Dude.  Sup?  I talk funny.  I hope you like that about me.  I have a tendency to talk like a surfer from California half of the time, and a yankee the other half.  All I know is, that is a bit unusual for a girl who was born and raised in Texas.

Future Husband- may I call you Future Husband?  Bear with me.  You're going to have to be patient with me.  I'm stubborn as the day is long, and I can argue with a brick wall if it looks at me the wrong way....and win.  I try to learn to be more patient... have God teach me... I think He likes to make me wait for things to teach me patience.  I always end up stomping my foot on the ground and crossing my arms.  So If I stomp while simultaneously crossing-- just give me a hug and tell me it will be okay.

What else, you ask?  Let's do volunteer work together.  No, not like scooping up animal poop... but founding an organization where we can give people blankets, hats, gloves and coats during the winter.  We can serve them hot chocolate too...or coffee.  And we can go around handing out water to the homeless in the summer. Water and a banana, because bananas are delicious.  We can tell them about Jesus.  Love them like Jesus.

Let's wash feet.  Give high fives.  Blow kisses.  Make music.


Love,
Anna

P.S.
I hate ants... so if I see one and scream, please kill it.  They are too organized...marching in their lines and such...