Just dandy-lions

It's hard to explain to your child what you never understood in the first place. I remember bringing in little bouquets of dandelions to give to my mother. She always told me that they were weeds. I watched as Faith snatched up a sunny dial of feathery petals from the backyard. "Funny," I told her. "I don't know who decided these were weeds and the rest were flowers." I suppose it's all in how you look at it. Or perhaps it is some particular horticultural distinction that escapes me. When Faith presented me with my dandelion delight, I thanked her and added it to the "flowers" I had clipped myself. It still looks like a flower to me.

- Liz