If there are fresh flowers in my kitchen, it’s because my husband bought them — for himself. I have zero patience for cut flowers. They are expensive and last mere days, progressively getting slimier with each passing hour. In the end, I have to deal with dead flowers that won’t fit in my compost bin, and a smelly vase that’s impossible to clean. When I see fresh flowers, all I see is unnecessary work. To be clear, I don’t hate flowers, just dying ones.