Several times a day, during good weather, grubby little hands reach out to me and say...
"Mom, I picked this for you."
And at the end of the day, as I look at the little pile of dried flowers and weeds (mostly weeds) that have accumulated on my counter, I am reminded how lucky I am to be a mom.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go break up a lightsaber fight gone wrong.
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