You Say You Don't Want Flowers...

My mom and I were set to go to the appointment to see the florist. I had tried to get my sister to come with me, but she and her husband made plans to go away for the weekend. Boo. There we were, driving down to the parish’s florist, which wasn’t exactly close, but at lease we had a recommendation from the church coordinator.

MOB: “Now, when we’re in there, don’t ask me for advice on how I think something looks, because I don’t know anything about flowers and how they look or smell.”
Me: “OK” (in my head: “I wish my sister was here…”)

With that pep talk behind us, we pulled up to the florist and walked into the shop, which was almost surreal. There were gorgeous silk display arrangements everywhere. The owner is the person we met with and he showed us some of the bonsai trees he had made, where he had hand-beaded all of the leaves. I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted, so we looked through a book of bouquet ideas. We found one that I kind of liked, and then he made some great suggestions, like replacing one thing with hypericum berries. I had seen those before and liked them, but hadn’t remembered until I said something.

After I chose the bouquet, we went through the list of corsages and boutonnieres.

MOB: “I do not want to wear a corsage, so we don’t need to order one for me.”
Me: “Mom, if you don’t pick out what kind of corsage you would like, I’ll just order one that I like and make you wear it the day of the wedding.”
MOB: “Well, I just don’t know if I should wear yellow. I mean, what if what I decide to wear doesn’t work with yellow? Maybe we should wear another color. Let’s have the mothers have white flowers.”

Right. The woman who doesn’t want to wear a corsage now needs to wear a white one. Isn’t white supposed to be reserved for the bride? I don’t even know that I want white flowers or white tablecloths. My dress isn’t white (it’s “pearl”). White is so stark, ivory at least has a richness to it. Maybe I’ll just call the florist and say I want to change the white to ivory. My mom doesn’t need to know…