I really like this picture. I guess I could live without the blurry/picked apart daisy, but the expression just makes it worth the fuzz.
It also makes me think about all the times I got flowers sent to me. Once after having Mason. I don't recall what kind they were, but I know they were pretty and came in the cutest vase ever. Another time Mason's dad got pink roses sent to me for no reason at all. The last time I got flowers was when he died. I guess they weren't all sent to me personally, maybe they were? I don't know the rules when it comes to death, but I do remember how much I hated the smell of my house for days afterwards. It's funny how situations can change your reactions to things.