Flower child

Supermarket shopping with a toddler can be a big nightmare. The whole place is not only filled with toys and cookies and doughnuts but all that good stuff gets prominent billing and is at the right places for an impulse grab.

I have had my fair share of conversations with my Precious Boy about what we will and won't buy. But yesterday was different.

I stopped the cart by the organic produce to scan what veggies and fruits were available. Suddenly, he told me: "We need fwowers."
He carefully studied the floral racks. He pointed to the red roses.
"Dat one," he said. "The wed one."

How could I say no?

He felt very proud of his selection for the rest of the day.
He asked to help unload the groceries, and I gave him the bouquet, which he showed off to My Darling Redhead.
"We got fwowers. Wed woses. So pwetty. You smell dem, Daddy?"
And we discussed the bouquet at dinner time, as it was the centerpiece at our dining room table.

It's nice to know that beyond the snips and snails and puppy dog tails, and the climbing-lion-roaring-truck and train-obsessed veneer, that my Precious Boy may have a little romantic streak too.