We live close enough to the small center of our town that I sometimes let my twelve year old son bike or walk with a group of his friends downtown to get ice cream.
Last weekend they stopped on the way home and picked up hamburger buns at the bakery for me. So, this weekend I asked my son and his buddies to stop at the fruit stand and buy me some flowers.
Yep, flowers. I asked four twelve year old boys to stop and pick up flowers.
They were quite willing to run the errand since I was paying for the ice cream, but they weren't that sure on how to buy the flowers.
'What kind of flowers?' one asked.
'Do we have to pick them?' asked another.
'How do you buy flowers at a fruit market?' asked the third.
My son, who has picked out many flowers for our kitchen table in the past, simply wanted to know what colour I wanted.
So, off the boys went and a short time later they returned with lovely yellow tulips for my kitchen table.
Then today I went into the fruit shop to pick up some things. The lovely lady who works there was happy to tell me that she had seen my son and his friends come in to the market to buy flowers on the weekend.
She also told me that the boys had declined her offer to help them pick out the flowers and had only smiled when she accused them of buying the flowers because they were in trouble for something.
She had then proceeded to ask the boys if the girl they were buying the flowers for was pretty. She reported that my son had answered, 'yeah, she's not bad'. Now this woman wanted to know who the lucky recipient of the flowers was.
Uh, that would be me.
But, not bad? My son thinks I'm 'not bad' looking?
I can't decide whether to be insulted or simply amused. I am, after all, his mother and he is twelve. I can't help but wish he would still think I'm beautiful like he did when he was two years old, but at least he's not telling the lady that I'm coyote ugly.
So, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go and smell my tulips. The ones my son bought for me.