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Mothers Day for a Florist’s Wife

My name is Annie Grant and I am the wife of a florist.

‘How wonderful!’ people say when they meet me, ‘you must be surrounded by gorgeous flowers all the time! Your house must be bursting at the seams with them!’ Actually, no. Like the proverbial builder whose own loft conversion is never finished, we don’t go in for cut flowers chez Grant. To be honest, I was never a big fan anyway… but more to the point, those times of year when you’d expect a lovely big bunch of roses are precisely the times when I NEVER SEE MY HUSBAND. Valentine’s Day? No chance. Christmas? He practically lives in the shop from mid-October until Christmas Eve. But Mother’s Day is the one that really riles me.

No lie-ins, breakfast in bed or spa days for me. Whilst my friends post photos on Facebook of their little darlings stumbling into the bedroom with a cup of lukewarm tea and some burnt toast before letting Mummy drift gently back to sleep, I am up and out with the little Grants, desperately trying to wear them out before Daddy returns at bedtime. Bike ride, playground, cupcake-making, fish fingers, play-dough, arts and crafts, more fish fingers (they’re good for the brain, right?), bath, milk, stories…. By the time Mr. G gets home it takes all the strength I can muster to open a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, let alone indulge any last-minute Mother’s Day whim. But, to get myself into the spirit of an occasion that I never get to enjoy, here is my alternative Mother’s Day wishlist:

  1. Time to read the Sunday papers. All of them (except maybe the gardening section).
  2. A cup of tea that is still hot when I actually manage to drink it.
  3. A homemade card that I didn’t creatively-direct myself.
  4. Poached eggs that have not already been dipped into by someone else’s soldiers.

Nothing complicated. And certainly no flowers, thanks.

I might have a moan about it sometimes, but as any mother will tell you, spending a happy (if frenetic) Sunday with my babies is reward enough. That said, a word to the Dads in the crowd: Don’t forget Mother’s Day, ever. You don’t have Mr. G’s excuse and you’ll never live it down. We know that our 10-month-olds can’t hold a pen, let alone write “I love you Mummy” with their left hand, but you have to do it anyway. And buy her some flowers, it’s important. There’s this great little florist I know…

Annie Grant is the wife of a florist at Gardenia

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