Even my dog shits on my green thumb....
First let me preface this by saying: I am death to all plants...All of them. Some of them may think they are invincible. Wrong. They just haven't met me. In fact, it is so bad that when my husband and I go grocery shopping together and I even deign to slow down and admire some small houseplant en route to the vegetable section; he immediately goes into 'channel the plant' mode and pretends to be talking as the plant. Shaking with fear, 'oh please don't pick me, I am too young to die, I've not yet begun to live... pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase no'.
Never mind that I love plants, that I buy them with the best of intentions, that I follow the directions on the little plastic instruction post that comes with all plants; I kill them all.
All that is, except for my tulip bulbs that my Mother-In-Law bought me. I planted them, kept them warm all winter and guarded them from squirrels. In spring, I swelled with pride as they woke up and began to bloom. A deep shade of violent red. Beautiful.
I was proud. They were my Frankenstein. I had created life where none was before. I felt the green in my thumb begin to awaken and even the plants in the grocery store didn't quake with fear when I passed.
My dog. (whom I love very much in spite of wanting to kill him 9 times a day) will circle the back yard five times every morning looking for the perfect spot to do his duty. It's a ritual. Five times around the yard. Sniffing this bush, poking that shrub. He will raise his leg at least 3 times and change his mind in mid-lift and move on...having decided I guess, that that particular bush did not deserve his juice.
He finally settles on the far corner of the yard. My tulips. He raises his leg, looks back at me, I run to the edge of the deck, arms outstretched, shouting 'Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! BAD DOG!'. He SMILED. I swear! and proceeded to let loose his stream of golden plant death.
BAD BAD BAD dog! You have a myriad of other bushes and plants to select .... WHY the tulips. I can see them begin to wither before my eyes.
Then he turns around 4 times, looks at me again and SHITS.
RIGHT ON MY TULIPS.
Even my dog shits on my green thumb.
Never mind that I love plants, that I buy them with the best of intentions, that I follow the directions on the little plastic instruction post that comes with all plants; I kill them all.
All that is, except for my tulip bulbs that my Mother-In-Law bought me. I planted them, kept them warm all winter and guarded them from squirrels. In spring, I swelled with pride as they woke up and began to bloom. A deep shade of violent red. Beautiful.
I was proud. They were my Frankenstein. I had created life where none was before. I felt the green in my thumb begin to awaken and even the plants in the grocery store didn't quake with fear when I passed.
My dog. (whom I love very much in spite of wanting to kill him 9 times a day) will circle the back yard five times every morning looking for the perfect spot to do his duty. It's a ritual. Five times around the yard. Sniffing this bush, poking that shrub. He will raise his leg at least 3 times and change his mind in mid-lift and move on...having decided I guess, that that particular bush did not deserve his juice.
He finally settles on the far corner of the yard. My tulips. He raises his leg, looks back at me, I run to the edge of the deck, arms outstretched, shouting 'Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! BAD DOG!'. He SMILED. I swear! and proceeded to let loose his stream of golden plant death.
BAD BAD BAD dog! You have a myriad of other bushes and plants to select .... WHY the tulips. I can see them begin to wither before my eyes.
Then he turns around 4 times, looks at me again and SHITS.
RIGHT ON MY TULIPS.
Even my dog shits on my green thumb.
posted by Lisa at 8:30 AM
<< Home