Flowers

Just about every night, Davis and Tracy walk over to the pool. Tracy is determined to teach Davis to swim before this summer is over. Sometimes I go with them, other times I take the opportunity to be by myself. A couple of nights ago was one of those occasions when I chose to stay at home. At around 8:30 pm the boys came back. I opened the door and Davis immediately looked at his Daddy with a sad face and asked, “Where’s Mommy’s flower?” Apparently he had picked a flower for me and had lost it somewhere on the way. He was devastated and refused to just not worry about the flower. So, Tracy being the good daddy that he is, put all the pool paraphenalia down and said, “Let’s go get Mommy another flower.” So off they went and were gone for about 15 minutes. Davis came back with the tiniest flower in his hand. He was smiling from ear to ear, so proud of himself. I hugged Davis and told him thank you and how much I loved the flower. He smiled a bashful smile and ran off to play with his Daddy. It made me realize just how fortunate I am – not only to have a son who loves his Mama enough to pick flowers twice in one night, but to have a husband who loves his “Baby Mama” enough to walk across our yard, two parking lots and another yard twice to the pool, the only place where those particular flowers grow, to let his little boy pick those flowers for his Mama.

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