"People in glass houses shouldn't walk around in their underwear."

"Whatever you say Grandpa." Mike wiped the drool from the corner of the old man's mouth. "Nice day out there, maybe we could go for a stroll around the gardens."

"No, the daffodils don't like me. I can hear them whispering when we go past."

Mike scowled, grasping the back of the wheelchair before pushing it through the open double doors. "Grandpa, flowers don't talk."

"They do. Hear them. Muttering away, plotting all sorts of things. Mrs. David hears them too. Should ask her. The orchids in the hot house are the worst though. Picky buggers. Don't like visitors. Snobbish I call it."

He'd been going down hill ever since Mike had brought him to the old folks home. Pine View seemed like such a good idea at the time.

"What about the rose bushes then?"

"They're sulking at the daffodils. Always bickering about how a frost should show up and wipe out the entire population of daffodils."

Spring had brought a warm day, for once. At least it allowed Mike to push the chair out into the gardens. It was becoming such a chore to visit his Grandpa every week. Mike hated the smell inside the house, disinfectant and old people.

"Don't go near the vegetable patch."

"Why not?"

"Chives, they've planted chives in buckets at the edge of the patch. Scream something wicked when you walk past. They don't want to be there. Want to be moved to the herb garden, all proper like."

The first of May, he could have been out at a May Day fair, instead he was pushing a senile old man around the garden. Well, maybe there would be time to hit the pub afterwards. Those May pole dancers could get pretty frisky if you got enough bitter into them. Or the odd brandy.

"Careful of the oak's roots. Can't you watch where you are going? Should be thankful it's not autumn, stuffy blighter would throw acorns at us."

"That's quite enough of that. They aren't talking. They can't attack us. Grandpa, please, try and remember how things are."

The branch swung across Mike's face, knocking him to the ground, blood spurting from a freshly broken nose.

"You're right, friend, he shouldn't talk to his elders like that. Rude bugger."

Mike blinked past the blood in time to see his Grandpa patting the branch good-naturedly....