I wasn’t going to blog today, but that all changed this afternoon. Who would have guessed that a bouquet of flowers addressed to someone else would inspire me? My husband is not demonstrative at all. That’s an understatement.
Years before I had threatened to find greener pastures if, after three years of dating, he didn’t speed the relationship along (because we all know there are so many willing takers of single moms with four kids, especially when a few had already reached their teen years). “Can I have a month to decide?”
Three weeks later, a flat voice on the other end of the receiver cracked. “Okay, I guess so.” The caller sounded despondent and woozy. I heard sniveling. Only then did I recognize my future husband’s resignation to my suggestion. See how romance just happens to me.
So generally when flowers are delivered, I’m jealous. Today as an ominous chrysanthemum arrangement was wheeled past me, I was grateful for a husband who rarely showed a public display of affection.
The delivery guy and I looked at it several minutes and both admitted we had never seen anything quite like it before. The flowers had eyeballs. I thought it was a bunny with rosebud ears. He voted for a rooster, but it looked like its waddle had fallen onto its chest. I walked around it. “Whatever it is,” I said, “it’s got a rose growing out of its butt.” We finally agreed it was a poodle with erectile dysfunction.
Now I’m not trying to run your life, but my suggestion to you is, if you ever have an inkling to order a chrysanthemum and 3-rose combo, you might want to ask the florist to keep the roses in a bunch.
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LOL. Wow. I will never be jealous again when someone else gets flowers and I don’t! Ha ha…
Me either. There are things worse than getting flowers, but not too many things worse than getting flowers like these. ha, ha