You tend to hand me your leftover cauliflower or broccoli like it’s a corsage. You thrust it at me with a stiff arm and a smile. You wait expectantly for acceptance. Because you are so proud in the giving – Y'know what? This broccoli is going to rock that woman’s world – you have made me see the bouquet inside the common vegetable.
I know this, because I always nod solemnly like I’m a royal receiving peonies and tulips because that’s how you make it feel.