Flowers in Faded Plastic
On finding tiny, happy things in motherhood.
We didn’t own a blow dryer until last night. I don’t like using heat on my hair, so there was no need for it. (My hairstylist commented once on my healthy hair, and my inherent firstborn daughter's need for praise solidified that decision.)
But last night, my husband bought me one.
So he could blow dry our prissy little dog — who is, by the way, my very best friend. Our miniature goldendoodle that we got for free from our neighbor (because some of his siblings killed some of our chickens). Our silly, definitely-a-little-bit-basset-hound-because-no-goldendoodle-is-this-lazy dog has his very own $10 blow dryer.
My children were given a playhouse. Just one of those plastic Little Tikes ones. It’s very old and very (very) faded. But it was free. And they love it so much.
And we planted flowers in the faded, blue plastic window boxes. We did peppermint on one side because snakes and spiders hate it. (And if I see a snake in the playhouse, I will definitely faint and die.)
On the other side, we planted celosia. Because they feel fuzzy and funny, and my three-year-old son loved them. (They’re more commonly known as “cockscomb,” but I saw potential societal trouble for the three-year-old there, so we use its…
