Why less than perfect is happiness

Yesterday we ate lunch outside.  As as soon as my boys and their cousin were done eating, they decided to go on a hunt to find the most beautiful flower for me.  They began to bring all sorts of beauties to me.

Their sweetness moved me so I took a photo.  I love small things like this.

But what happened next was even better.  Our baby, who is only one, looked at what was going on and disappeared.  After a while, when I already had a great boquet, he brought me this one:

He had tried several times to pick it, but each time the petal ripped off instead.  Finally he figured out how to get it off the stem and was so delighted to bring me a gift.  His smile was probably bigger than mine.