Yesterday I picked weeds for my house.
See, I saw this sweet little flower coming up on our side of the fence (no comments on how we are weeding failures please) and when I looked over to the field behind our house I could see that there were more out there.
I thought a big bunch of them would be cute on my table. So I got my boys and we went for an adventure behind the house. Logan was thrilled to have space to run and I was looking forward to free flowers.
While we were out there I kept telling Tyson that it smelled like a homeless person. Or a dirty diaper. Something bad. Tyson didn't smell it but whenever I stooped near the ground I caught a big whiff.
I was a little disappointed in the flower selection. Seems like the extra water our plant got from being in our yard benefited it quite a bit because the ones in the field were kinda scrawny. I got a handful anyway and took them home to trim.
Where I discovered the source of the smell.
My flowers smell like poop!
So they live on the porch now.
I know. It looks kinda sad.
And it is.
I'm gonna pretend Logan picked them for me and I didn't have the heart to throw them away.