We just picked up some fresh eggs from a neighbor. I thought it would be an interesting experience for ell. But this is not about the eggs. Our story picks up in the car on the way home from buying the eggs, when Elliott tells me in a steadily rising voice, "Oh no, where are my flowers?"

I, of course, have no idea what he is talking about. " I picked some flowers and put them in my pocket but they're gooooone! And they were ( his little hands covered his mouth in horror) for yooooouuu!". I tried to reassure him that it was such a sweet thing to do and that we can find some more, but he was still starting to cry a little. As I pulled into our parking space, I notice the park by our house is full of dandelions, and he was pacified by those. He ran over to where the were growing, plucked two, and handed them to me.

"Thank you Elliott!. They are beautiful. Let's take hem inside and put them in a vase."

He takes them back from me and says, "no, let's put them in my pocket.". And that's where he shoves them, and where they still remain.