642 Things to Write About: Tell a dying houseplant why it needs to live.

Dear Laverne and Shirley.  You are my favorite ferns of all time.  Ever since I first laid eyes on you at the super center, I knew you were the perfect accessories to my home.

Here we are, three days later and the vibrant green that once occupied your petals/branches/watchamacallits, are now brown and withered. I fear our time together is coming to a close.  Perhaps I should’ve watered you more…or at all.

Please don’t leave me.  If you die, my mother will never allow me to have a pet.

The deal was, keep a plant alive for six months and then I can get a cat.  Keep the cat alive for five years or more and then I can get a dog.  If I can keep the dog alive for five more years and house train it, then, after my mother is dead, I can have sex and conceive a child. (I’m not sure why my mother’s death is a requirement.  You’ll have to ask her.) If you die three days after I purchased you, my mother will never let me get a cat.  I’ll die a brown, withered spinster just like you.

I implore you, Laverne and Shirley, don’t give up.  Pretend I remember to water you.  Pretend I remember to open the curtains up so you can bask in the sunlight.  Pretend I didn’t confuse the bleach water for regular water last night.  (In my defense, I was drunk.)

Show me mercy! Come back to life!

Love,

Hopelessly Lacking Green Thumbs.

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James 1:12

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood that test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

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