After eating breakfast at the camp site, my boys and I began taking pictures of the flowers. We combed the field by our tent for Bluebonnets, Indian Paintbrushes, Indian Blankets, Mexican Hats, and Pink Evening Primroses. Tiptoeing past bees so as not to disturb them, we snapped pictures of the flowers and of each other.
Son #1 and Son #2 wanted to pick the flowers but were told not to touch. Instead, they were encouraged to explore the field for the prettiest flowers they could find. Son #1wandered about shouting to me about his discoveries. Son #2 babbled and trotted through the grass like a maniac.
After some time, a wasp decided to join us. Son #1, Son #2, and I decided to cut our journey short and return to our camp site. As we walked back to our tent, Son #1 called out to his dad. "Hey, Dad!"
"Yes, Son!" My husband replied.
"Dad! I saw a bunch of Bluebonnets!" Son #1 cried.
"We saw Indian Paintbrushes and Primroses, too." I said casually.
"Uh uh! Those are Redbonnets and Pinkbonnets!" Son #1 corrected with confidence.
"No, Baby. Those are Indian Paintbrushes and Primroses." I reiterated.
"No, Mama. They're all bonnets!" Son #1 shouted.
I stand corrected. Everything is a bonnet.