Thursday, May 26, 2011


Today, my girls and I walked around our neighborhood scoping flowers to pick*, all of us in spring skirts, ribbons in the sisters' hair, a basket with a checked cloth in it.
It was all springy and idyllic, and I felt kind of embarrassed, because it made me look a little Stepford.
Then Julia started screaming, and laying down in the dirt and rolling around, and I felt a little better.

*Does anyone else feel really weird about picking other peoples' flowers? It's one thing if you're a kid and you do it, but to be the adult, egging them on, is that weird? Because I feel both weird and awful, like I'm encouraging graffiti. And then I feel very Type A for feeling weird.
I feel better getting that off of my chest. But still a little weird.

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