Never drive the back roads of Texas in the Spring to look at bluebonnets. It's simply too dangerous. You see, for every laid-back flower lover slowing down to gaze serenely at a field of these most beautiful of wildflowers, there are ten frantic parents in their monstrous SUVs careening around wildly looking for just the right field of blue in which to plop down their baby and start taking pictures.
And these parents are insane. I know because I was one of them.
These parents are juggling too many intangibles. First, there's the baby. A bluebonnet expedition requires that your baby be both awake and happy despite long hours in the car. Good luck with that.
Then there are the fields themselves. Despite how serene they look, most bluebonnet fields are either surrounded by big, ugly fences or next to an interstate highway. And all of them are infested with mound after mound of fire-ants.
Lastly there is fear. See, every Texan is told from an early age that it is illegal to pick bluebonnets. They are the State Flower and they are easily as revered as smoked brisket, high school football, and Republicans. So when you place your baby in the middle of a field of these sacred flowers and the first thing she does is grab, mangle, and destroy as many as she can reach, you put your camera down and start nervously looking around for the state police.
But Texans are a hardy lot and usually they finally get their picture. I got mine, and here it is.
Kathryn systematically destroyed over 300 bluebonnets that morning without ever pausing once to look up at the camera. We have been on the run ever since.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should note that while The Mom and I did drive Kathryn wildly from one bluebonnet patch to another, we were certainly not doing it in a monstrous SUV. Also, despite what everyone thinks, it is not illegal to pick bluebonnets in Texas. It is, however, illegal to pick Republicans.
Posted by: The Dad | November 03, 2006 at 07:20 AM
Old habits are hard to break. I thought that was Amanda in the picture. ;-)
Posted by: Kerri | November 03, 2006 at 08:03 AM
It's not illegal to pick bluebonnets??? I feel so much better now. I fear each time I get pulled over for speeding along an old country road, the officer will come back and tell me they are taking me downtown and booking me for destroying Texas property when I was a wee one.
And to this day, when I'm sliding through someone's barbed wire fence, I'm anxiously looking around for the sheriff or the owner running towards me with his shotgun. But I can't wait until next year to do it all again and get that picture.
Posted by: Dona | November 03, 2006 at 08:50 AM
the NJ state flower is the common meadow (or wooly blue) violet: http://www.state.nj.us/njfacts/flower.htm
not nearly as interesting as a bluebonnet, and ironically, often considered a weed. Yay NJ!
Note that according to the site, square dancing is the official dance of NJ (who in NJ square dances?) and the AJ MEERWALD is NJ's Official Tall Ship. It seems they went a bit overboard in official-izing everything.
Posted by: Christine | November 03, 2006 at 09:33 AM
Ah-HA!! That explains the scene I stumbled on of the horrific squashed death of my beloved bluebonnets! I've been trying to solve this crime for years! ;) LOL
It is true.. its a conspiracy, even the school teachers are involved! They plan it out every year, how best to bring the message of "do not pick the bluebonnets or else" to our youngins at school! Its so bad that my 10 year old was afraid we would get "busted" for pulling the dead ones out of our own garden! HAHA.
Now.. as for the crazy SUV driving, picture taking on the side of the highway parents.. I just got to say.. CRAZY! Go pick an ugly fenced field... cause well, Texas drivers aren’t exactly very observant... so plopping your child down in a field near oncoming traffic is in fact placing them right in a lane of traffic! I can guarantee that someone has and will drive right through the field there... bluebonnets be damned! HAHA
Posted by: ValeriGail | November 03, 2006 at 04:12 PM