This morning, B.B. was playing outside while his dad was tinkering around the farm. If Husband reads that I called his very important business "tinkering" he may toss me out on my ear....but that's beside the point. B.B. & I had a big argument about his clothing choices before he headed out. He wanted to wear shorts, I insisted on long pants (it was only 64 out). Many tears were shed on his part. Eventually his dad came in & said it was not chilly at all & the shorts would be fine. B.B. dressed & stormed out of the house eager to get away from his evil grump of a mom.
After about 30 minutes of being outside with his dad, B.B. came storming in the back door shouting, "MOMMY!!! I bring'd you some flowers!" Clutched in his still slightly pudgy fist was a clump of dandelions. I thanked him, kissed him, and sent him back out to play. Then I took my tiny, wilting bouquet & stuck it in a purple antique glass bottle my mother gave me for my birthday 2 years ago.
3 minutes later he was back with two more dandelions. I accepted them graciously, tucked them in the bottle, and sent him on his way.
5 minutes later he was knocking on the front door (we never use our front door). I think he made 5 or 6 trips in with dandelions with varying lengths of stems from none at all to 5 inches long. All but the absolute stemless were tucked in my purple bottle.
His final trip in he said, "Here, Mommy. Des are all de fwowers I could founded for you. Dere are no more. What do you call dem?" I told him they're dandelions. "Yeah, dat's what you call dem. You tan call dem dandelions if you want. I'll just call dem fwowers for you." He was so very proud of them. And I was so very proud of him. He worked so hard to pick those little yellow things for me. Time he could have been spending digging in the dirt, chasing sheep, sliding, helping his dad was spent picking flowers for his grumpy mother.
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