I never get flowers. Except from my parents at dance recitals growing up...which actually always felt really special. But the one time I did get flowers, like real flowers, from a boy, was in high school. My best friend (a boy) came over to my house one night to stop by and chat. I don't actually remember what we chatted about - I'm sure he intended on something important but clueless Fallon saw right past it. Well, he ends up leaving. The next morning, I wake up and head out to my car to run an errand, and there on my windshield are three yellow Daffodils all dewey and cute tucked under my wipers. It took a couple seconds and a confirmation from a mutual friend to figure out who they were from but it made me smile. I saw him later that day and thanks him for the "sweet flowers". Naturally, I internally freaked out about the whole situation and nothing came out of it. But it's my only flower story so I keep it as a special memory. Someday I'll learn...
Fallon - thanks for sharing...I love the 'Naturally, I internally freaked out...' and have we learned from this situation? I hope so ;)
I'm trying to think of a good flower story ... My mom always used to get me pretty flowers when I came home to Houston, and she would place them in my room on my desk. They always added that sense of home which I love because ever since I moved out for college (and now live in NYC) my room seems a little bare. And of course I love amaryllis during the Christmas season which we also always bought and then stressed out over whether or not they would actually bloom by Christmas - sigh. I love the holidays. I need to start buying flowers more often. xxb
I never get flowers. Except from my parents at dance recitals growing up...which actually always felt really special. But the one time I did get flowers, like real flowers, from a boy, was in high school. My best friend (a boy) came over to my house one night to stop by and chat. I don't actually remember what we chatted about - I'm sure he intended on something important but clueless Fallon saw right past it. Well, he ends up leaving. The next morning, I wake up and head out to my car to run an errand, and there on my windshield are three yellow Daffodils all dewey and cute tucked under my wipers. It took a couple seconds and a confirmation from a mutual friend to figure out who they were from but it made me smile. I saw him later that day and thanks him for the "sweet flowers". Naturally, I internally freaked out about the whole situation and nothing came out of it. But it's my only flower story so I keep it as a special memory. Someday I'll learn...
ReplyDeleteFallon - thanks for sharing...I love the 'Naturally, I internally freaked out...' and have we learned from this situation? I hope so ;)
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to think of a good flower story ... My mom always used to get me pretty flowers when I came home to Houston, and she would place them in my room on my desk. They always added that sense of home which I love because ever since I moved out for college (and now live in NYC) my room seems a little bare. And of course I love amaryllis during the Christmas season which we also always bought and then stressed out over whether or not they would actually bloom by Christmas - sigh. I love the holidays. I need to start buying flowers more often. xxb