“Nikki, don’t pick any flowers out of Grandma’s garden”
“Is it in Grandma’s garden?”, I asked. “Yeesssss.” she replied. “Then I think you know the answer to that question.”
“So I can pick it?”
Oh. My. God.
In an effort to keep my cool, concede some ground on this argument: “You can pick up petals that have already fallen on the ground.”
“What about these petals?”, again pointing at a flower that is planted in the garden.
“No, those are still attached. The flower is still using them.”
“Oh. Well, how about these?” as she points to a different flower that is also planted in the garden.
I’m wondering at this point if there is something wrong with my daughter. Is the concept of ‘don’t pick the petals’ so hard to understand for a five year old? Apparently it is, for a petalkleptomaniac. She just can’t help herself. If it’s pink (or red or yellow or purple) and pretty and attached to a green stalk, she is drawn to it like a discount lover to a shoe sale.
Is there any cure for this most disturbing disorder? Yes, only one. Unfortunately, it is also known as winter. So we’ll live with the petal theft for a while, because I’d rather see green stalks with no coloured bits on top than snow any day of the week and twice on Sunday.