There Will Be Time to Plant the Flowers…Just A Lot Later

Every year around mother’s day, I take the kids to the store to buy a flat of annuals.  They are excited to pick out plants and we all share the wonder and excitement of spring.

Once we get the plants home, the kids usually plant one plant and that’s it for them.  I spend the rest of the day in the sweltering sun, bent doubled-over cramming plants into the ground.  With each plant that I insert into the soil solo, I become a little more disgruntled.

While I’m showering, spring planting accomplished, I wonder how each year I look forward to this day of planting for the season, and every year I wind up bitter and crabby.  

This year, I bought plants with my mom.  We went home and we planted every one of those annuals together.  Me, almost 40, and she, close to sixty-four bent doubled over together, having the experience I dream about having with my children every year.  We worked together, we chatted, we sweated, rubbed our aching backs and got the job done.

Maybe I just need to wait until my kids are 40.

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