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Silly Notions

This is just something that’s been on my mind. No meaning or anything, just jotting it down because I think it’s neat, and could possibly be used as inspiration for something else later on.

I grew up being told that when a guy gives a girl flowers, however long they last shows how much he loves her.  Cut flowers rarely last beyond two weeks, so if they last longer, the guy really loves the girl. When I told my ex that I wanted a divorce, as a last ditch effort, he bought me flowers for the first time (lack of romantic gestures like giving flowers was one of the many things I mentioned in my “I want a divorce” speech.)  It was a very beautiful, very large bouquet of flowers. It last maybe a week, and that’s being generous. I even tried to take care of them, to make them last because they were so pretty. And the frugal tightwad in me wanted to make sure it wasn’t 80 bucks wasted, even if not my own money.

Okay, so…

On Mother’s Day this year (May 8th), my brother, sister w/ her family, and I took my mom to her favorite restaurant for dinner–Black-Eyed Pea. It was quite an adventure, and one that I won’t go into details about. However, there is one very important detail I do want to mention, and that is the adorably cute server we had. I was sitting next to my one year-old niece, so keeping an eye on her was top of my focus, but I still managed to steal a glance or two towards the server.

At the end of the meal, being that it was Mother’s Day, the servers were handing out carnations to all of the mothers dining there. It’s a sweet gesture for the restaurant. I also know it can be difficult to distinguish which women had children and which ones didn’t and it’s polite to just let all the woman have a flower. I’m used to that on Mother’s Day.

I am handed a pink carnation by the cutie-pie server. I think nothing more about it, because I merely was admiring this man, nothing more, even if there is a little girly voice inside of me squealing like a Beiber fan. When we got home, my mom put the two carnations (her’s was yellow, which was even sweeter, because we got flowers in our favorite colors) in a pot I had previously been trying to sprout strawberry seeds in. The pot didn’t have any holes in it, so it was holding water pretty well. We set them on the porch and the pot filled with water during our week-long rain storm.

Fast-forward to June 1st. I was coming up the walkway towards the front door and I glanced at my flower pots (I have basil, sage and thyme in them, so I was checking to see if they looked healthy) and I noticed my strawberry pot, filled with water still. The yellow carnation had long wilted, but I noticed the pink one still looked vibrant. It struck me as odd, because they were both put in the pot at the same time. That, and it was three and half weeks since we got the flowers.

It’s been a week since I noticed the flower, and it has now wilted. But the fact that it lasted until June looking healthy made me think of that superstition that my mother taught us about how the flowers last because of love.

Mom and I went to Black Eyed Pea for dinner for their Chicken-fried Steak Monday special. I did not see the cutie-pie server at first, so I figured he was not there. We had a nice girl serving us that was a little air-headed. To my surprise, the cute-pie server brought our food out to us, despite that he was not our server. Made my night. ❤

(( I do not think the server loves me. Do not be mistaken. I just thought it was a cute and silly notion, worth writing about, because it could make for a sweet and romantic scene in a future story. I want to start using this blog for things like documenting my inspirations and things. ))


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