Flower Arranging Funny Quotes

The black volhv pivoted to me. “I have questions.” “Can it wait?” “No. Your wedding is in two weeks. Have you prepared your guest list?” “Why do I need a list? I kind of figured that whoever wanted to show up would show up.” “You need a list so you know how many people you are feeding. Do you have a caterer?” “No.” “But you did order the cake?” “Umm…” “Florist?” “Florist?” “The person who delivers expensive flowers and sets them up in pretty arrangements everyone ignores?” “No.” Roman blinked. “I’m almost afraid to ask. Do you at least have the dress?” “Yes.” “Is it white?” “Yes.” He squinted at me. “Is it a wedding dress?” “It’s a white dress.” “Have you worn it before?” “Maybe.” Ascanio snickered.” “The ring, Kate?” Oh crap. Roman heaved a sigh. “What do you think this is, a party where you get to show up, say ‘I do,’ and go home?” “Yes?” That’s kind of how it went in my head.

Tildy warned us the Winter King could identify a person by scent,” Summer said. “Since he thinks you’re Autumn, Tildy said the wedding night should take place here, in Autumn’s bedroom, where her scent is already absorbed into everything.” “She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent,” Spring added, “and deliberately arranged the candles so he won’t be able to get a good look at your face so long as you keep to the bed.” “Where’s Autumn?” she asked. “Here.” Khamsin turned. Her sister emerged from the connecting wardrobe room wrapped in a forest green satin robe. Her long auburn hair spilled around her shoulders in ringlets. “Scenting up your nightclothes.” Autumn grimaced. “I know I’m clean. I bathed this morning, but there’s still something wrong about rolling on sheets and rubbing myself on clothes all day. It just seems so . . . so . . . dirty.” Despite everything, Khamsin laughed. For some reason, Autumn’s complaint struck her as funny. “You rolled on the sheets?” “Tildavera suggested it.

I have a funny story about your dad,” John says, looking at me sideways. I groan. “Oh no. What did he do?” “It wasn’t him; it was me.” He clears his throat. “This is embarrassing.” I rub my hands together in anticipation. “So, I went over to your house to ask you to eighth grade formal. I had this whole extravagant plan.” “You never asked me to formal!” “I know, I’m getting to that part. Are you going to let me tell the story or not?” “You had a whole extravagant plan,” I prompt. John nods. “So I gathered a bunch of sticks and some flowers and I arranged them into the letters FORMAL? in front of your window. But your dad came home while I was in the middle of it, and he thought I was going around cleaning people’s yards. He gave me ten bucks, and I lost my nerve and I just went home.” I laugh. “I…can’t believe you did that.” I can’t believe that this almost happened to me. What would that have felt like, to have a boy do something like that for me? In the whole history of my letters, of my liking boys, not once has a boy liked me back at the same time as I liked him. It was always me alone, longing after a boy, and that was fine, that was safe. But this is new. Or old. Old and new, because it’s the first time I’m hearing it. “The biggest regret of eighth grade,” John says, and that’s when I remember--how Peter once told me that John’s biggest regret was not asking me to formal, how elated I was when he said it, and then how he quickly backtracked and said he was only joking.

The Best for His Father The man went to the mortuary to make arrangements for the funeral of his father who had just died.  The man explained that he wanted the very best for this father and not to spare any expense. After the funeral he was sent a bill for $20,000.   He knew his father had received the best the mortuary had to offer, so he gladly paid the bill. The next month he received a bill for $125.  The following month he received another bill for $125.  The third month he received a bill for $125 again.  He thought he had better figure out what these monthly charges were for, so he called the mortuary. The person he had worked with at the mortuary reminded the man that he had asked for the very best for his departed father.  In addition to the best coffin, the best flowers, and the best ceremony, they also rented for his father a tux.