My friend. My GUY friend had flowers delivered to him, at work, by his girlfriend – a few days ago. After the laughing, the ribbing, the jokes all at his expense, we had to rob him of his rose-coloured glasses. The poor little tyke. He thought the flowers were actually meant for him. I had to educate him. It’s not for you…you big silly. These flowers are for whichever girl may like you, have a crush on you, you may flirt with, or who may flirt with you. What? Listen. This is to let them know you have an owner. You’re spoken for, off limits! He couldn’t stop laughing! “Come on, Renée!”, he implored, “you’re kidding!”. No I’m not. This tells me all sorts of things…that I shared with him but not you…he is my friend after all, some things have to remain unknown. But these are the little eccentricities that populate my day that help me enjoy them all the more. Plus all us chicks were a wee bit jealous, but we’ll only admit that on threat of pain of death. Who wouldn’t like flowers? Ahhh, oh well.
