The Blossoming Flower Whisperer (standard:humor, 907 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Jul 18 2021	Views/Reads: 951/673	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I guess from my wife’s point of view, the delicacy and fragrance of a blossoming flower are in the voice that comforts it. When God speaks to me, I also blossom.

When it comes to flowers, I am the epitome of naivety. I have no
expertise whatsoever in the plant world. All I see are red, blue and 
yellow. 

Don't get me wrong here; I enjoy flowers. However, when it comes to
names, I am off the planet. I don't need to know the name of a flower 
to really enjoy that flower. Instead, I enjoy the fragrance and the 
optics of a row of flowers. 

If I had to take care of flowers, they wouldn't last more than 24 hours.
Just because you like something doesn't mean you know how to take care 
of something. 

On the other side of this marital relationship, the Gracious Mistress of
the Parsonage is quite the expert when it comes to plant life and 
developing flowers. She grew up on a farm, and her father was a farmer, 
so she understands how to take care of plants. 

Being the gracious husband that I am, I give her plenty of space in this
area. However, I know what I should stay away from, and this is one of 
them. 

I know that if one of her flowers wasn't going the way she wanted it to,
she would not be a happy planter. So, to encourage her in this realm, I 
stay away from the flowers. Instead, I admire them from afar and 
complement my wife on their beauty. That gives me a few kudos, and I 
need as many as I can get. 

A couple of weeks ago, as I passed the glass door that goes out into the
porch area, I heard my wife talking. Not wanting to interfere, I 
assumed she was talking to our neighbors. That happens quite a bit. I'm 
not saying it's in the area of "gossip," but it comes very close. 

I just wrote that off and continued my day. The next day I heard the
same thing, but I couldn't understand what she was saying; I just 
assumed she was, again, talking with our neighbor. 

This happened quite a few times and I, being of the curiosity strain of
humanity, wanted to know who she was talking to and what they were 
talking about. 

I don't gossip, but I sure do like to hear gossip to know what in the
world is going on. 

Trying to listen, I heard her say, "Oh, you look so beautiful today." 

That caught my attention. I've never heard the neighbors talk about
being beautiful. So I just shrugged it off as neighborhood nonsense. 

A day later, as I was passing the door, I heard her say, "Don't you
worry about the rain. I'll take care of you." 

Then she said something curious, "I'll be careful, and promise this will
not hurt; it is something that I need to do." 

Then I heard, clip, clip, clip. 

"See," I heard her say very lovingly, "I told you that it wouldn't hurt.
So now you're going to look a lot more beautiful." 

At the time, I did not want to know what in the world was going on. I
could not even imagine who she was talking to and what was going on. 

My dilemma was, shall I walk away and pretend I haven't heard anything?
Or, should I go out and find out for myself what was going on? 

I have the philosophy that once you step into a puddle of water, you can
never unstep. 

Then I heard, “Don't worry, little friend, I'll get to you soon.” 

At this point, I've had enough. No matter what it cost me, I was going
to find out what was going on. 

I opened the door and stepped out on to the porch, and said, "Who are


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