Here’s this week’s Regarding Annie from the paper. Seriously, it was probably one of the most unfair things ever. There should be a law, seriously.
“So I’m big on having no expectations for Mother’s Day. I’ve learned over the past few years that Mother’s Day is best left on the back burner. If something shows up on my plate, I consider it a nice little bonus. No expectations, no let down.
Perhaps one of the reasons I feel this way is because I’m married to a man who makes sure to run the kids to the dollar store on Saturday night, and always lets me sleep in on Sunday morning. Really, how much better can it get?
So I’m in the family room folding clothes last Saturday and there’s a knock at the door. Harrison runs up and opens it wide as I finish stacking the whites and haul myself off the leather. As I pass the windows at the front of my house, a glimpse of something bright and beautiful catches my eye.
That’s right, it’s the flower man, and he has brought me flowers. And not just any flowers, stargazer lilies, my favorite flowers in the entire world. Man, my husband is good. Talk about an unexpected moment of joy.
“Oh my gosh!” I gushed, “Those are so beautiful! I can’t believe him; that man never ceases to surprise me. Where do I sign?”
The man smiled at me and looked down at his clipboard. “So you’re Phylis?” he asks.
Phylis? Who in the heck is Phylis?
“Um, no. I’m Annie.”
“Oh,” he says, frantically checking the address and confirming the house number. The house is right, the flowers are right, but where is Phylis?
“Yeah,” he says, “I uh, I guess I have the wrong address.”
Now, is it just me, or does it seem totally unethical and inherently wrong for a florist to bring flowers to the wrong door, the day before Mother’s Day, meet a young mother, barefoot and pregnant with three scrawling little children pulling on her shirttails and then leave her empty-handed?
Couldn’t he have just said, “Whoops! Annie, yeah, definitely Annie. These flowers are totally for you, because you obviously deserve them and need them, and boy, do you want him drawing on your walls like that?” Isn’t it obvious that Phylis doesn’t exist? Isn’t it obvious that fate wants me to have those flowers, planned for me to have those flowers, would like to give me those flowers?
As he started to walk away, something inside my very fragile brain snapped.
“You know what?” I said, “Please make a note, for future reference, that taking flowers to a woman’s door the day before Mother’s Day, then ripping them from her overworked, dish-soaked hands just because her name isn’t Phylis is a mean and cruel trick. Aren’t you the guy who’s supposed to spread joy and happiness to the world? Aren’t you the Santa Clause of all young mothers who feel neglected and forgotten? Isn’t it your job to bring me flowers? Where are my flowers?? I WANT FLOWERS!”
Okay, so maybe I didn’t say all of that, but I did let him know that life isn’t fair, and I did return to my humble abode with empty arms.
Well, not completely empty. Without so much as a prod, my little children threw their arms around my legs and hugged me.
And quite frankly, in that moment, it was enough. Almost.”
Ugh! This happened to me, too, but not on Mother’s Day. And it was an Edible Arrangement, not real flowers. AND… since my neighbor (who the bouquet was for) wasn’t home, I had to store the horrible thing in MY frig and deliver it to her MYSELF later that day! Insult to injury. Heartbreak. I feel you.
I’m sorry. But you can say you got flowers (for like 3 seconds).
This is how mean I am, but one Valentine’s Day, Adam had flowers delivered to my work, and I was PISSED!! How sad is that?
But the reason was is that I asked him specifically not to send me flowers because I really wanted to go out to dinner instead. I am one of those “spending time together” love language people. So, because he bought this big, expensive arrangment, he spent our dinner budget, and we couldn’t go. He will never do that again.
You can have my puffy heart vase, if you like. It’s still at work.
Oh the inhumanity! Life sure has a way of torturing young mother’s doesn’t it? Be it flowers ripped from your hands or kids puking their guts out and wanting to be held and loving on you til nothing else in the world matters.
At least you got to sleep in! How awesome is that?
That is awful! I would’ve been so super upset, like watery eyes right there on the spot. I’m actually glad you said something, not because it was necessarily his fault, but gosh dang he should’ve just given you the freakin flowers! I hope mother’s Day itself was better, and I’m sorry!
Seriously? Dumb flower dude. Apparently, he doesn’t pick up on signals very well. I agree, he totally should have just given you the flowers. Stupid, stupid flower dude.
And I agree, I am probably the most fragile as a mother on Mother’s Day. It’s a hard day. I try not to say it out loud, but sometimes it helps to know I’m not the only one who feels better putting it on the back burner.
Love you!!!
I have a big frown on my face right now. Seriously. My bottom lip is out and everything. That is SO cruel.
WOW, that would be so crappy for sure. I could visualize the whole scene.
LOL
I can see you prego self wanting to go for his jugular
Did you flip him the “Bird of Paradise” –(ah, it IS a flower after all)
I told my husband that I never want flowers as a gift. Because they just die. I want chocolate so that it can live on my buttocks forever. (However, I didn’t get that for Mother’s Day either.)
Hee hee. I know this isn’t supposed to be funny but it’s such a great story! And I’m all about great stories. The flowers would be dead by now, but that story will live in infamy.
And I’m with Kristina, except I’m a “feed me a meal that someone else prepared and please include dessert” kind of love-language gal.
And I’m also with Melissa cuz I gotta have me some chocolate.
And, I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but I got the dinner out AND the chocolate. And then my husband got on a plane and wasn’t even around when the maniac sunday school student launched his blitz attack on me.
So balance was restored to the universe.