I grossly underestimated the volume of work you do around the house. Not only that, the boys miss you and so do I. The laundry pile is taller than The Professor and the bed hasn't been made once since you left. Then again, I am usually in it so that might explain things. (The bed, not the laundry pile. There is no explanation for the laundry pile.)
I know you are busy saving the free world from certain doom and destruction and all that stuff, but please hurry home soon. I feel terrible that you are sleeping in the woods while I enjoy this huge bed all by myself.
Your ever loving wife