Today the florist-slash-landscape-architect came over with contracts for our wedding flowers and landscaping. I wasn’t at home when flower-guy was was here, so I asked for a rundown from my father.
“So, what happened?”
“Well, he brought over some paper. And we signed it. And your mother wrote him a check for a lot of money.”
“Uh huh. Is that all?”
“Well, we’ll give him more money later. And then some more money. Then maybe a little more. Then he’s supposed to give us the flowers.”
“…”
I guess it’s obvious where my smart-butt nature comes from.
Poppies, peonies, dahlias, billy-buttons, and whatever-else-I-forgot, here we come!
