At the very end of packing up at the farmers market today, an adorable sweet young farmer man walked up to me with a bouquet of white flowers and said, "Do you want some more flowers?"
I hesitated because at first I wondered if he wanted to trade for something and then for another second I thought that he must surely think I was someone else, like one of the really cute coffee girls from two stalls down. I also considered for a quick moment that, since I had sold some bouquets of flowers today and I had a display arrangement still on the table, that maybe he had found this perfect bouquet on the ground somewhere and thought I had lost it.
Then it dawned on me that maybe he just thought I would like some pretty flowers and so I said, "Sure!"
He handed them to me, smiled, and walked away to me oohing and aahing with the baker next to me about how pretty they were and how sweet that was.
It occurred to me a minute later that maybe I could have asked his name as we are in the same place every Thursday morning, I loved his curly blonde hair, and it's been a while since somebody gave me flowers (regardless of whether or not it was an accident or just an end-of-market donation).