@floriistry
“--Well that’s why you just need to choose something, sprog.” Galya had steered her young charge into the florist’s shop under the pretext of distracting him long enough to get her phone back (which had worked!), but now it had become A Process. Eph was four going on forty-five, and she really should’ve seen this coming. He was examining the specimens with the grim, thin-lipped look of a judge peering at the defendant in a multiple homicide case, and her suggestion to just pick something had done little more than earn her a stern ‘your appeal is denied‘ sort of glare. She needed to watch less Law and Order.
Spotting someone that looked like he probably worked there, Galya flagged him over. “Excuse me, sir. My young employer here is looking for something for his mama. Do you have any suggestions?”