Yesterday we brought the boys out to "help" in the garden. Alex was helping me weed (at least until a large handful of mud and weeds were thrown directly into my forehead), and Brent was busy picking 'daisylions' for me to wear in my hair.
Afterwards, Brent and I were walking around looking at the different flowers. He would reluctantly hold his nose 8 inches from the flowers when I asked him to see what they smelled like, as if some foreign insect would somehow jump out of hiding, and I do understand that particular thought process. We sampled the lilacs (smells like grapes, mommy!!), and the dogwood blooms (oooooh! They smell like popcorn! - [???]).
Finally he went to some of the azaleas that were nearby. "Oh wow! These smell like love! They must be for you mommy...". Then he looked at me, smiling from ear to ear, to watch me melt as he knew I would.
Even the most perfect spring day can't compare to that.
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