I was so mad.
I suggested she go smell the pretty Lilies. So she did, and plucked one right off the stem.
I probably said something ugly in my ugly mom voice about leaving flowers to be enjoyed or at least remembering to ask for help in cutting them right.
I suggested she go smell the pretty Lilies. So she did, and plucked one right off the stem.
I probably said something ugly in my ugly mom voice about leaving flowers to be enjoyed or at least remembering to ask for help in cutting them right.
But she just smiled at me and said, "but Mama it can be my magic golden trumpet!"
Oh, well in that case.
There will always be flowers, but there will not always be a six year old Kenna, just as she is right now, all eyes and laughter and imagination. They grow like weeds, or rather, like beautiful magic golden trumpet lilies. I need to shush the ugly mom in me and remember that -every single day.
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