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.