“There’s a special on flowers for Valentine’s Day!” said the local florist. We were walking by his shop, going home from the subway, and he was standing in the doorway. “$65 for a dozen roses!” he crowed, as if that was a great bargain. “Maybe I’ll see him in here for Valentine’s.”
Rob smiled and said, “Maybe,” and then when we were out of earshot, “You would kill me if I came home with $65 flowers!”
“I really would.” I said, and I wrapped my arm around him. I’m so glad he “gets it”.
Even if I had all the money in the world, I wouldn’t be down with spending that kind of money on something that will die in a week, and besides, roses are way too easy. I do love flowers, but not roses, really; I’ll take my flowers quirky, unique, wild and un-sprayed with pesticides. Cellophane-free. Real, natural grown, and not given out of obligation. Inexpensive, always, and presented with love. Like these.