That Time of the Month

I gotchya' with that title, didn't I?

I'm not talking about THAT time of the month. I'm talking about the time of the month that my house usually gets filled with these:








Ben gave the roses to Ashlee last night, because it's their "eighth month anniversary." Then he brought the yellow flowers this morning, because ... well ... just because.

I just loooove fresh flowers around the house, and if it takes someone doting over my daughter to get some, then so be it. My budget certainly doesn't allow it, nor do I have a very green thumb.

Mind you, I didn't let Big Ben get off without a little teasing. I answered the door this morning when he came to give Ashlee the flowers. Without missing a beat, I said with mouth wide open, hand on my chest, "Oooohhh Ben!!! For meeeee? Thank you SOOOO much. That was SOOOOO sweet of you!"

Hey, if the guys can't put up with a little grief, they don't deserve to take my daughter on a picnic.

Truthfully, Ben was gracious as usual and simply handed the flowers to me, showing every pearly white he possesses.

Having said that, I also identify with Jim Bishop when he said ...

“Watching your daughter being collected by her date feels like handing over a million dollar Stradivarius to a gorilla.”

Amen and amen.

~Brenda