My plan for today was to channel my inner six-year old by picking wild flowers. This is something I would often do when I was growing up, partly because I love flowers, and partly because I knew full well how adorable I looked with my long pigtails and a bunch of wild flowers, posed romantically in a conveniently located meadow.
Now that I've grown up, I'm a little less self-assured about my own adorableness, but I do still love flowers. Ever so, ever so much.
While Espen was sleeping today, I took the baby monitor outside and checked out the wild flower sitch in the overgrown wilderness outside the back gate. And I found some prettiness there! But as soon as I picked up my shears to cut them, Espen woke up and my flower picking fantasy turned into Espen's lunch time instead. So I decided I'd come back after he went to bed.
Fast forward to this evening, when Nick walked in the door with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. We had hardly talked during the day, so he had no idea that I'd been feeling the need for some floral fortification, but there he was with exactly the thing I'd been wanting. Because he thought they'd make me happy. Because he wanted to make me feel loved and special. Which he did.
So, no: I didn't pick my bouquet of wild flowers today. But sometimes, friends, you don't have to do everything yourself. Sometimes you can allow someone to love you enough to let them do wonderful things for you. And that is where happiness lies.