Today I walked into a bona fide flower shop for the first time in....wow...at least 7 years, probably longer.
There were two men full of heavy sighs and arms full of flowers and teddy bears or balloons.
I heard one total - $99.85! That's two weeks of groceries!
Hear me out on this. My heart just melts when my romancer brings me a flower or two. I swoon, really. The thoughtfulness! The things is - flowers die. They die. A couple of flowers can perfectly convey the sentiment needed without the grand massacre of plant-life and money.
And let's talk about this giant teddy bear that could eat me while I sleep. Really? Is that necessary? What do you do with one of those things?
I stand by their balloon purchases. That helium's entertainment value is priceless.
Perhaps my practical mind has taken over after years of romantical interludinal disappointments. One of my long-term boyfriends was actually too embarrassed to ever bring me flowers because he says that a man purchasing flowers is a man in trouble. Touché.
Am I alone in the universe with my unique flower perspectives?