Genocide In The Garden

Imagine you are a tomato plant at Home Depot, and you see Mark strolling towards you. If you had feet I'd tell you to run. Run like your life depended on it, because it does.

Here's how it works. Mark goes to Home Depot and buys the plants. Flowers, tomatoes, pepper plants, whatever bug he has up his ass at the moment. He then brings them home, and sets them out back by the swimming pool. About three days later he will ask me if I'd plant them in the garden. By that time they are already a bit withered, and begging for water, but I do my duty. I stick the little buggers in the ground out in the back yard, and that's the last time they will ever see Mark again.

Every day I go out there and water Mark's plants. I weed the garden, and harvest anything worth picking. After my knee surgery two Friday's ago, I was unable to do that for about four days. That was too bad for the tomato plants, because in the South Florida sun plants become shriveled, and stressed within hours. Weeds have the ability to grow inches a day, and battle the garden plants for what moisture is left in the ground. In other words, Mark's garden is nearly dead, and I have given up on trying to save it.

Now this might seem inconsequential to you. So what if Mark can't keep a garden going without me to do all the work. Let the garden die you say. It only becomes disturbing when you realize that Mark has bugged me for years with the suggestion that we adopt a child. It's an idea I have steadfastly refused to go along with because it would probably interfere with my afternoon naps, and evening cocktails. Besides, I understand that they require a bit more attention than spraying them with the hose once a day to keep them alive and thriving.