A couple birthdays ago one of my residents nervously gave me a plant (read here) that for the most part, I was able to keep alive — ok wait no, if I am being honest, it wasn’t entirely me, but rather my coworkers and other residents who would yell at me when it would start looking parched; they say it take a village to raise a child, it’s kind of like that, but more green, less human — Anyway, last week Mr. V, whom gave me the plant came in and retrieved it, stating that it was looking a little rough and needed some TLC (this was true, she was looking, errr just a little limp…).
Here is what my plant looked like before he took it:
aaaaaand here is what it looked like TWO days later:
Now, we can all tell by now that I am not gifted in the area of botany, but even I KNOW that these are not the same plants, my goodness the leaves were not only thriving, but were different shape all together — my response however was something to the effect of, “[squeal!] Oh my goodness! You are a miracle worker! Thank you! I can’t believe you did this!” as he beamed proudly (and who can blame him — he totally fooled me).
***thoughts as fell asleep that night: I completely neglected my plant, passing off responsibility to “the village” to raise it and then felt very little apprehension in feigning ignorance and trading it in for a better model — if this is the kind of mother I am going to be one day maybe I oughta start a therapy fund now for my future children??