Remember my plant problem? The one where all the plants I was left are thriving and not dying? Well, not only are they thriving—some of them are growing little Gremlin babies. Yes, you got the movie reference right. Gremlin babies popping out through the soil, as a result (obviously) of me getting them wet.
Now the plants have to go. Because anyone who knows me knows I have a freak phobia and cannot deal. In fact the last time I had a plant, it was three years ago and a coworker had to remove it from my cube when it started growing Gremlin babies. Fuck, I am so itchy.
This all makes me realize that I’m going to have serious problems when my kid comes down with something nasty, like chicken pox (the believed root of my problem) or shingles. How am I going to deal with that?
“Sorry I can’t help you, tiger. You’re grossing Mommy out to the point of suicide. Go scratch your rash on Daddy’s lap while I slip into a Xanax-induced coma for the next five days.”
I may have to seek treatment for this so I’m cured before zygotes enter the picture. But for now, the plant goes.