Delicate Flower

I came home from the latest baseball traveling weekend to find two notes on my counter. The notes were left there for me. The notes were from my son’s girlfriend and my daughter. Both (as well as my sister), have been gracious enough to help look after our home, as well as our monster fur babies (two indoor shepherds) while we let our son chase his baseball dreams.

The note from the girlfriend read; “I couldn’t get the trash cans to the curb they were too heavy. :/”

The note from my daughter read; “They were heavy. Gah Mom, did you finally lose it? Did I just help dispose of a body?”

Why it gotta be me? What does she mean; “Gah Mom… lose it… dispose of a body…” Who me? No way! I’m a delicate flower. (Yes I am!)

Every time I use this line, but I’m a delicate flower, on my husband he bursts into uncontrollable laughter.  I fail to see exactly what it is about this statement that he finds so darn funny. This past Saturday I threw this line out there and he laughed so hard his face turned beet red, he snorted twice, and couldn’t catch his breath.  The whole scene was hilarious which caused me to join in on the laughter.

“Delicate flower;” he said.  “Even you’re laughing!” *Bahahahaha*

I was laughing because he couldn’t stop laughing.

I am a DELICATE FLOWER! It’s not funny, people.


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