You return home to discover a huge flower bouquet waiting for you, no card attached. Who is it from — and why did they send it to you?

Flowers? On my doorstep? It must be for a present for Mom.  Or perhaps it’s for my dad.  One of the two sent the other flowers, I thought.  I know on Valentine’s day, Dad gave Mom crisp, fresh roses to her.  These were the same kind, but yellow.  I smell them, albeit too closely, and pay for it with a sneeze.  It was worth it.

I go inside and at once call my mom away from her computer.  However, she says it’s not for her.  Dad would have left a note.  She didn’t order any flowers either.  I realize it’s probably been delivered to the wrong house, and wonder who it was really meant for.  The thought never even crossed my mind that it was for me.  I couldn’t even begin to think who would send me this cheesy, yet sweet token.  I laugh, and wonder if I should just recycle the flowers and give them to my neighbor’s mom as a token of appreciation, since it was unlikely I would find the true recipient anywhere nearby.  It was a bit saddening, though, to know the person who was supposed to get these flowers wouldn’t.


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