For years I wouldn’t let Dan bring me flowers, I prefer my own and… He’d get it wrong and bring me Alstroemeria or something…
I just told him to not even try. He had to earn the right to bring me flowers, which makes me a little harder to deal with than most women. I imagine normal chicks melt when they get a box of roses or sigh when they get a dozen tulips in spring…
I bitch about the roses being scentless and soulless…And the tulips? After planting about 60,000 of them in my career- I’d STILL rather you buy me a dozen bulbs than a dozen cut stems. I don’t care how much fancy tissue they come wrapped in (and I’m a SUCKER for tissue paper).
Now, Dan has learned about plants and gardening. He gets it. Finally.
Good job, honey!
I was so pleased when he brought me home a trio of sunflowers on Friday. They are in season, inexpensive… I didn’t grow any this year… Cheery and fun!
I can’t complain, even though I usually do.
And the BONUS? I’m going to save the seeds and grow them along my fence next year so that I always remember these flowers!