Dear future hubster,
I know it's going to sound weird, but I kinda hope that your feet stink. Because, honestly, after a day of wearing shoes and tights, mine, well... I just want to blame it on you.

Dear future hubster,
Ritus has seen you in her dream. Apparently you have dark hair and blue... blue car or shirt. Something blue, in any case.

Dear future hubster,
you know why I was so generous letting you keep the fancy shiny two-seater? Because I knew there would be days when then kids are at the grandparents', the night is mild and the late spring breeze is irresistable - and that's when you'll take me for a ride by the river, with the roof off and the music on, like we are young. Because we are young. So let's set the world on fire.

Dear future hubster,
sometimes I get impatient at the roundabout because they are digging all over the place and there is only one lane to use and then there are buses and trucks and when I'm wearing red shoes and have The Killers on full blast, every responsible person knows I'm not in my most tolerant moods of all times... but then I think, hey, they are building the new European School... for our children. Ain't that cool?