Shoop Shoop

Sometimes you're invisible when you're having a picnic. So there we are, eating our sandwiches and looking at the river. Along comes a lady, probably in her forties, looking unhappily pensive. She picks a daisy and starts picking off one petal at a time.

It's the old tradition. Pick a petal ... he loves me. Pick a petal ... he loves me not. And so on till the last petal tells you whether he does or not.

At the end, she looked unhappy. But she had picked two daisies, and there were lots more after all...

She could always ask Cher.