It’s my Mom’s birthday!

I haven’t gone out much this year. So, I decided a week early I’d make a run to the store and pick up an early-birthday gift.

My Mom loves flowers.

I perused the store.

I picked out a trio of roses – radiating reds, optimistic oranges, dusty purples.

As I entered my home, bouquet in hand, my Grandmother exclaimed to my Mom:

“It looks like your son thought your birthday was a week early”!

I replied,

“Why do I need a reason to get Mom flowers”.

It seemed like everyone agreed.

She quickly scoured the home for some empty vases.

She arranged.
She trimmed.
She watered.
She smiled.

That’s all I really needed.

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I get flowers for the two most important women in my life: my Grandma and my Mom.

Every year, on their birthdays, they’re surprised with a bouquet. The problem is: I’m consistent.

It’s no longer a surprise.

That’s why I bought a bunch of flowers a week early – she’d never see it coming.

She didn’t, in fact, see it coming.

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I figured she was thinking that would be the only round of flowers to come her way.

She was wrong.

On the day of her birthday, I went to the store for the second time in two weeks.

I went to the same aisle.

I completed the pair of trios – waking whites, perambulating pinks, young yellows.

With a few dozen roses in hand, a cake box, and a confused understanding of where the line was – I make my way to the cashier.

I pay.

I often forget to listen to what the total price is – keep this in mind for later.

I get home and this time my Mom is definitely surprised.

She blurted, “Again!”

She couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and a glance of disbelief.

I’m selfish – so that’s the reason I did this all. So I could see her laugh and smile.

Our home is now inhabited with vases and roses alike.

The dinner table was also inhabited with something – the receipt I accidentally left.

My Dad wasn’t particularly fond of the price. I reminded him I’m doing his job too, as I pointed at the 3 bouquets that were bought on his behalf. He didn’t seem to mind anymore.

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Don’t tell my Grandma, but if I’m here to give them: this July it’ll be flowers galore for many consecutive days in a row.

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I’m grateful for the women who have been in my life.

I’m grateful for roses and the life they’ve brought into our house.

I’m grateful I can spoil my mom with flowers.