The weed I hate and the flower I love

I can't decide whether or not I like dandelions.   

Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning and see a dandelion sticking up in my lawn, the very sight of it quite literally makes me want to light my yard on fire!     (but don't worry- I won't)    And there are some Sunday afternoons, when we come home from church, that I notice that the sunny day has drawn out a few more of those pesky weeds, and it nags at me something fierce!   There is nothing I want to do more, then go get my garden tools and dig 'em out right that very minute, dress and all!   But John always stops me and says that's "hardly the type of thing I should do on the sabbath," so I'm forced to just leave them and let them exist for one.more.day.       

Quite frankly, I think these dandelions bring out the worst, most obsessive part of me.

But then there are days, when Jess and Nate run to me with their cute dimply little hands full of "flowers" that they've gathered just for me.   I can tell they've put a lot of thought into their bouquet because there is usually a trail of imperfect dandelions, (that didn't make the cut), left behind in their wake.    Nothing but the brightest and fullest will do.       

It's funny how beautiful something can be, when simply given by a two year old.