The Grandson texted me at 7 a.m. yesterday morning.
"Do you know if you'll be busy after 3 today?"
I said I would be free.
"Well, you used to run a flower shop, right?"
I said yes, in another life.
"So you'd know how to make a really good bouquet, I'm assuming?"
I said maybe and told him to come on over after school.
As expected, he arrived empty-handed. We went to Kroger.
The floral department was a sea of red, pink, and white flowers and balloons. The sight and smell brought back some not-to-pleasant 30-year-old memories and a few funny ones. My favorite story is about the guy who came in and ordered 11 roses, with the card to read, "If you're wondering why there are only 11 beauties, just look in the mirror and you'll see the 12th." He thought it was ever so romantic and clever. The next day, he came back and ordered one more rose, with the message, "Here's the 12th, you butthead."
But I digress.
The Grandson picked out flowers and candy. We brought them back to my house, arranged the flowers, wrapped them, and tied a pretty bow around the stems. He intends to present his gifts to his young lady after school today.
(There is a woodpecker drumming on a fiberglass basketball goal in our back yard. Since he keeps doing it, I guess he must be enjoying the sound.)
This morning, The Husband and I did our usual Valentine's Day routine of exchanging cards and candy. I got him a chocolate bar shaped like a pickup truck (how redneck is that?). It's probably terrible chocolate, but it's cute. :)
Tonight, our margarita place will probably be even more crowded than usual. How dare these interlopers complicate our margarita night! ;)
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