Yes, my sweet husband brought me home flowers. He came home Sunday after Church choir practice (he directs, I don't attend.) "Come see what I got you for our anniversary!" he said in his falsely bright, the joke is coming tone. It's been 14 years. I'm very, very familiar with that tone. He dragged me into the the living room and proudly pointed out the gaudy display perched on top of the piano, the only piece of furniture in the house that could possibly have held it. "See! I got you flowers." Having just returned from church myself, I recognized them, "um. Those are the flowers from Saturday's funeral." He laughed. Apparently, the family didn't want them and they were offered to Steve as he was leaving the building. He brought them home for me. Isn't he nice?
There is just something about the fact that they sat in a room honoring the body in the coffin that really takes the bloom off them so to speak. I'm trying not to let it bother me, but my goodness it gives me the giggles! See my pretty funeral flowers! They don't even match my room!
That cute bouquet completely dwarfed by the funeral flowers Steve brought home for me last week. That is pretty. I like it lots. It matches my living room. They don't make me giggle though. Not like my funeral flowers do. I giggle every time I look at them. Giggle at the complete ostentation and inappropriateness of them being in my living room. Which is probably why he brought them home in the first place. And that's why I married him, because he makes me laugh.
PS. here's my new purse as promised:
totally cute huh?
2 comments:
At least is wasn't reason #1 or #2. No harm done.
Ooh, funeral flowers. Not sure how I would feel about that.
The purse is way cute!
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