The birthday bouquet tradition—we have searched together for spring flowers for my daughter’s birthday celebrations for as long as I can remember.

What started out as something special turned into (and I quote her) “a grumpy job on a grumpy day!”

I was blissfully oblivious to the years it was a “grumpy job.”

Thanks to the tradition:

There was the year she fell asleep on the Mighty Lion after she gathered her flowers.

There was the year my dad pretended to be a bear and scared us on the path to his house. (There was a lot of screaming.)

There was the year we found fresh, muddy bear tracks during our flower hunt. (A theme of my daughter’s childhood has been that we don’t want her to become a bear’s sandwich.)

There was the year we got invited into Dad’s house for impromptu birthday omelets (We generally wander over there bc he has the best flowers—omelets are an excellent outcome as well).

Then there was this year—that I learned about the “grumpy job on a grumpy day!” Which ultimately led to our laughter and gasping for air, so this wasn’t a bad year either.

She’s a teenager now. Maybe this is the end of the birthday bouquet tradition (we’ll let her decide next year).

It’s been a good run.