Who romantic?

My husband - a wonderful man, but like all great people has a number of quirks. For example, never go on the bus, if the destination pubic transport. Considers that give flowers - stupidity. It is better to buy his wife a sausage. In weekday boiled, smoked weekend while on holiday can be pampered and smoked. In general, it is not romantic.

One gloomy January day on the kitchen windowsill there were two flowerpots. And they miraculously penetrated onions. Gentle arrows were drawn to the light, smell spring. I must say that my daughter and I noticed this beauty at once, and when the shoots reached five centimeters. Every day we are like two cat sniffing pots, like to eat spring immediately. But we are wise, we decided to wait until her husband will not be home and onions will be more, though slightly. The husband would not have given to make a holiday belly of these little sprouts.

Finally the day came when we decided to go for dark matter. Everything went well - my husband at work, onions grown. My daughter quickly built a salad: tomatoes, cucumber, pepper and onion, add garlic, poured oil and eaten.

The next day, my husband noticed traces of the crime. He exclaimed:
 - Where are my plants? -
 - Do not swear, but we ate onions. -
His eyes widened, his face has become an expression of astonishment.
 - Honey, you do not eat onions! You ate your flowers, which I lovingly cultivated on March 8! You grew! Wanted to make a surprise! Dug in late autumn in the country bulbs of daffodils, then made them an artificial winter, then spring. Everything by the book. Precisely timed. Who among us has not romantic? -

What can argue. Yes, really. If a woman in a flower pot only sees the food, the best gift for her still - sausage.
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