We’ve all been there. It’s the day before Mother’s day and the crushing guilt of the monthly bombardment of flower advertisements has finally reached it’s tipping point. “All right! Fine!”, you shout, “If I don’t get that woman who birthed me some flowers I’m going to be the worst, well, a worser son than ever before!” So you fire up the netscape, find the blooms you want, “oh look there on sale and I get a free flower vase!”, enter in your credit card info and voila, that twenty dollar plastic wrapped surprise is now a $70 one way ticket to raiding the communal fridge at work for sustenance. Not anymore, The Bouqs has taken all the upsells and gimicks out of buying Ma’s affection. A flat forty dollars is all it takes to make up for the disappointment, well, it get’s you close.