This has never happened before. As in ever.
Okay – I remember once getting a gorgeous (and ginormous) display of red roses at my workplace one Valentine’s Day years ago – which meant I blushingly fetched them from the front office and RAN to my car to hide them before the whole school saw them.
But then the most gossipy staff-member in the southern hemisphere saw me attempting (in vain) to wedge them out of sight behind the passenger seat of my car, and called out across the courtyard “WHAT DID YOU GET THEN?” – and then I had to take them to my Year 10 form-class (otherwise they would have been very sad that they missed out on seeing them, because it was an all-girls’ school and boys were very mysterious… and apparently either werewolves or vampires but not human beings who made romantic gestures) – and I ended up giving them each a flower and even then there was about a googolplex of roses that filled up the back seat and petals streaming down the freeway out my car windows all the way home.
Here’s the balloons:
and here’s the arrangement of flowers at the bottom, in a cute little square vase:
AND THIS is the sodding youngest cat of the family (who will introduce herself as Princess, although that’s not her name) – and she is here to remind the world as to why I no longer buy flowers for around the house, because she has an immediate response to roses – which is:
“He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not…”
Yes, she will pick all the petals off and fling them about, until they are all gone. Or at least all over the floor.
My other cat, who is still recovering with a big plastic Elizabethan collar around his neck, may have to share it with Princess for a while.
Tremendous love to the Young Australian Skeptics team for sending me such a lovely gift (and hours of entertainment for the kitten).