Painful Beauty

Yesterday, while hanging laundry on the line, Elizabeth decided to search the back yard for flowers. She loves flowers, especially dandelions if you can count those as flowers. I guess in her 4 yr old mind, they are beautiful!

She found some pretty purple flowers growing along the fence and presented them to me, letting me know that she checked them for bugs. I went around to the front of the house, making the mistake to leave the backyard gate open. She followed me and spotted the big bush of beautiful dark purple petals. Not thinking, it never crossed my mind to warn her not to pick these beautiful flowers because they are wild roses and roses have thorns. The minute I heard her screech in pain, I knew what happened. She came screaming "My BooBoo My Booboo" blood trickling down from her pinkie finger. "Those flowers HURT, Mummy!" Pointing accusingly at the beautiful flowers.

On our way in to the house I stopped and picked a big beautiful rose for her, I thought all her pain shouldn't be without reward.

She held her rose in one hand, and her little pinkie up in the air as we walked to the back yard, still crying a little. Into the house, a Carebear bandage cured all and she went off to admire her rose. Only to slam two more fingers of the same hand in a door an hour later. Two more Carebear bandages.

Ahh, the hardship of a 4 yr old drama queen.