We were supposed to get some strong thunderstorms this afternoon, so I thought it would be nice to bring some of the flowers inside to enjoy before they got beaten down by this hypothetical torrential rain. I figured Cubby would be into it, so I asked him if he wanted to help me pick some flowers.
And then I got a lecture about how flowers are only for looking and smelling, NOT for picking. Thanks a lot, goody-goody episode of "The Cat in the Hat."*
After a little discussion about how these were our flowers and we had lots of them and as long as Mommy or Grandma said it was okay we could pick some to bring inside, I managed to convince him that we would not be wreaking havoc on the flower population or endangering the survival of any animals by cutting a few of the hundreds of daffodils currently blooming on our property.
And of course, once Cubby realized that "picking" flowers actually means cutting them with shears, he was all for it. I grabbed an empty canning jar to stick the flowers in and we got to cutting.
I was going to put them in a real vase when I brought them inside, but they looked so nice in the canning jar, I just left them there. We're all about the accidental rustic charm.
Meanwhile, I had abandoned Charlie to his own infant devices on the grass, but he wasn't totally unsupervised.
A boy with three dogs is never alone for long.
The heavy thunderstorms have yet to materialize, but the little spring bouquet does look awfully nice on the dining room table. Smells good, too, thanks to the hyacinths.
With all due respect to "The Cat in the Hat," flowers around here are for looking and smelling both outside and inside. So there.
* "The Cat in the Hat" on PBS is actually a pretty good show for little kids, and one of the few I allow Cubby to watch.