To house plants, I must be considered a murderer,
because with every plant I ever receive, whether it's a pretty little
marigold flower with a matching yellow flower pot, or a purple tulip
grown from a bulb, or just a plain old green shrub in a large,
soil-filled pot in the corner of my room, I manage to kill it.
I don't know how or why my house plants die on me. I always try my
absolute hardest to keep my plants alive, as if each plant were a little
person growing. But they just die on me. I give them enough water. I
really do. And I know that you are supposed to give your plant plenty of
sunshine, but I'm pretty sure that lamplight will work just fine.
I even managed to dehydrate a mini-cactus. I don't know how I did that.
But I decided to take my plant-saving skills to a whole new level one
day, when my hockey team won the seasonal tournament, and my Mom and Dad
bought me a bouquet of beautiful, fresh red roses that smelt like
heaven. At first, I wished they just could have bought me a basket of
muffins or something, because I knew how quickly these breathtaking
roses would die off with me as their caretaker. But I was very
determined to keep these flowers alive.
I even went so far as to purchase a big vase that could hold all the
flowers, and placed the bouquet right by the window, not really trusting
my lamplight anymore. I even purchased this book found at my local
bookstore called The Plant Saviour, which apparently can teach
you how to keep any plant alive for any amount of time.
I was kind of skeptical when I opened my book up. I mean, could it
really keep my beautiful roses alive for me? Could I, for once, actually
keep some flowers alive for more than two days? Finally, I decided to be
an optimist and opened the book thinking positively.
I went to the index of the book, and flipped to page twenty-three, where
a secret formula for plant life was contained. "In order to make your
plant alive, you must make a formula of avocado seeds, eggshells, a half
a cup of milk, and fresh dirt."
Excited, thinking that I finally found a solution to my plant killing, I
quickly went to my fridge, peeled a ripe avocado until only the seed was
left, brought out a fresh white egg, cracked it, and put its shells in a
plastic bag. I grabbed our milk and poured what I think was half a cup
into a bowl, and dashed outside where I took a fistful of dirt from our
sidewalk, and put all of this together in my bowl of milk.
I think you can imagine how disgusting this must have looked. It was
just horrible. And the smell. Oh...the smell. But I took a deep breath,
reminded myself that I was doing this for the greater good, poured all
of the formula into the water of my roses, and hoped for the best.
I woke up the next morning, and skipped over to my windowsill excitedly,
imagining how tall and fresh my flowers would look, and when I finally
reached my vase, I gasped so loud it hurt.
My flowers were not even flowers anymore. It looked like my beautiful
red roses intertwined with one another, leaves twisted together, and the
all the faces of the flowers held together as if by invisible duct tape.
They all looked like one, huge flower that was so big it almost touched
Of course, I panicked. Did I do something wrong? Mix the formula up?
"Hello?" a voice snapped. The voice sounded icy and mean, like a crabby
librarian. I looked up, startled, wondering where the voice came from,
when I realized, with another loud gasp, that the plant was speaking to
My mind was racing, and before I did anything else, I grabbed my book,
and flipped to page twenty-three, and reread the title of the page,
which was “The Formula for Plant Life.”
I honestly just assumed the book meant the formula to keep your plant
ALIVE, not actually MAKE IT alive. I dropped the book, and looked back
up at my plant, which was giving me an impatient look, if plants could
even give you looks.
"Um, hello?" it snarled, rustling its leaves like it was rolling its
Oh dear. Looks like my problem with house plants just got a whole lot