My charming husband interrupted our conversation on the drive home from church without saying a single word.
He breezed through the EZ-Pass as I chattered away about something irrelevant and apparently unmemorable. Perhaps I can't remember the topic of conversation because of what happened next.
Rather than accelerating towards the exit ramp, he slowed down and pulled the car to the side of the road, raising his index finger. Just one moment.
"What's wrong?" I immediately began to fret. He raised his finger again. Just one moment. He unfastened his seatbelt, opened the door and slid out while I conjured car-trouble scenarios before he'd even made it to the ditch. Wait- the ditch?
I suddenly knew. The man had interrupted me, stopped the car, and now crouched down in the ditch tugging at wildflowers. For me. Just because.
He breezed through the EZ-Pass as I chattered away about something irrelevant and apparently unmemorable. Perhaps I can't remember the topic of conversation because of what happened next.
Rather than accelerating towards the exit ramp, he slowed down and pulled the car to the side of the road, raising his index finger. Just one moment.
"What's wrong?" I immediately began to fret. He raised his finger again. Just one moment. He unfastened his seatbelt, opened the door and slid out while I conjured car-trouble scenarios before he'd even made it to the ditch. Wait- the ditch?
I suddenly knew. The man had interrupted me, stopped the car, and now crouched down in the ditch tugging at wildflowers. For me. Just because.
"What is Daddy doing?" my three year old son stretched his neck for a better view. His younger brother, not quite two, is partaking in a sweaty Sunday afternoon nap.
"Daddy's picking me flowers," I reply. I'm grinning like a fool now.
"Oh, dat's so kind," my little boy replies.
My charming husband returns to the car, obviously pleased with his surprise and passes me my fresh-from-the-field bouquet. I'm bursting with joy and I hope, so much, the two boys in the back seat grow to be men just like their daddy.
(But you're here for the crochet.)
As soon as I got home I snipped the ends off my flowers and placed them in a vase of cool water. Destined for the tabletop, I look around and spy one of my favorite crocheted items I've made, The Simply Elegant Motif. How do people display flowers without crocheted doilies? The effect is charming, and every time I walk through the dining room I'm reminded that the little things are life's big things and I am thankful, for much more than I can tell.
PS- What kind of flowers are these? I see them in peoples' gardens all the time. ***Thank you to Annette from Petunia Pill - they are Black Eyed Susans!
Have a Lovely Day!
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Maybe black eyed susans? Your story brought tears to my eyes! That's a good man you have! And your boys WILL grow to be men like that...what with that kind of a role model, how can they not? Lovely post. Thanks for the tears and smiles...all at the same time! Annette
ReplyDeleteJust googled it- they are black eyed susans! Thank you so much! :) And thank you for the compliment too- he *is* a good man!
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