“You Don’t Send Me Flowers Anymore…: Thank God.

Don’t give me flowers. I can feel them before I see them. The amount of times my mother has come home with a bouquet that I didn’t notice—that is, until I’m sneezing and my eyes are watering enough to keep them alive that I notice that pungent perfume in the air. What’s the point of buying someone a gift that’s going to die by the end of the month, anyways? Don’t buy me flowers. If you’re going to spend twenty dollars on me, just get me a gift card. I’m the only one that knows what I want. Besides that what gives us humans the right to cut these blossoms in the prime just for our own gratification. They do serve a purpose you know. It’s just another example of how we ride roughshod over EVERYTHING for our own pleasure. Just because we can. Think about it.