I am married to a wonderful man. He's my best friend, and in ten years together, I have never once gotten bored with spending time with him. He's cute, charming, responsible, a great dad, and he brings me flowers.
So, what's the problem? Well, he brings me flowers.
The thing is, I love flowers, but I'm a snob about it. Tulips, Freesia, Daisies, and fragrant roses are among my favorites. I despise carnations, filler flowers like the ones found in cheap supermarket bouquets, and expensive, sterile, scentless red roses. My absolute least favorite flowers are Astrolomerias (and if I were more technologically savvy, I would have found a link to them to show you why). They're the utterly cheap flowers that florists throw into bouquets to add volume without cost. They're thin, with a trumpety shape, a garish purple and white coloring, and absolutely no scent. I hate them -- always have.
But the Boy, he loves to bring me flowers, and he apparently thinks the best flowers are the ones near the register at the supermarket. In the ten years we've been together, I have never received a lush, fragrant bouquet of one of my favorite flowers. Instead, I get whatever generic, filler-rich bouquet is either (a) apparently front and center at the supermarket; or (b) lying around the florist's shop when the Boy calls to have flowers delivered to me. Every Valentine's day, I get overpriced red roses, no matter how often I wax rhapsodic about muticolored, fragrant roses.
But the absolute nadir came today. It's our anniversary, and as I stumbled into the bathroom after the Cheeto's 4 am feeding, I encountered a forest when I reached for the light switch. My dear, sweet Boy, who I love with all of my heart and who is endlessly thoughtful, has brought me flowers, and left them in the bathroom for me to find in the morning. It's a big, huge bouquet of Astrolomerias.
Now I ask you, what's a flower snob to do? The Boy is undeniably sweet to bring me flowers at all, and he'd be crushed if I were less than thrilled with what he brought me. But if I don't speak up somehow, I'm doomed to a lifetime of shoddy bouquets that frankly, I'd rather he not waste the money on. So how to do I extricate myself from this situation without being a complete bitch?