A Troll in Central Park.
This movie made me want nothing more than to be a magical gardener with a bustling garden and flowers all up in my face 24/7.
But, living in the city, being a full-time college student and I had been working full-time as well that was not going to be a reality.
Then, I received a gift from my grandmother who has a fantastic garden and collection of plants littering her home inside and out. A small Aloe Vera plant whom I named to be Jeffery.
Every day I would talk to it and make sure it was receiving plenty of sunlight and over time it began to grow exponentially in size. I had nothing but love for this thing and didn’t care what anyone in my family or friends thought because I was the badass who raised a plant child.
Until I murdered it.
It was simply a series of unfortunate events, (I mean this literally, so don’t sue me Lemony Snicket).
One day I noticed Jeffery was becoming slightly reddish in color and my father informed me I had over watered it, but if I stuck him outside in the sun for a day or two it should help immensely. It was beautiful out, warm and sunny with barely a cloud in the sky.
Now those who know me know that I am basically two main things: clumsy and forgetful.
The next day I slept in and woke up super happy…because it was raining. Which is my favorite weather. I enjoyed the weather and sat on my front porch drinking a coffee while smoking a cigarette.
My dog alerted me to her need to use the restroom so out the backdoor I went and my heart sank as I saw Jeffery slumped over the pineapple pot he lived in, completely limp and drowning in his disappointment of me and obviously water.
I was so sad I couldn’t function all day and when my father came home and asked me what was wrong I couldn’t help but burst out in tears about my dead plant child.
Needless to say I have filled the void in my heart with fake plants but the pineapple pot remains on my back porch, empty but not forgotten.
Why am I like this.