This summer, I did the impossible. In a murderous and hatred filled act, I killed a cactus. To be fair, in the words of Agent Orange, “Both sides were to blame.” That cactus was kind of asking for it. The way it never asked for anything and looked so quaint and beautiful on the window seal – that thing was a total prick. So, I killed it. I thought I’d drown it in its sorrows before we skipped town. I didn’t want to watch it die! I sure as hell didn’t want to put my family through that! Krystal and Atlas don’t need to see that kind of violence in the real world, they see enough of it when I play video games. *Cue Overwatch voice lines*
The thing is, it’s actually pretty impressive that I was able to kill it. Cacti (Or is it cactuses? I don’t think anyone actually knows.) are extremely resilient plants! I mean, this thing could survive in the desert for an exodus or two with no water! But, somehow, I killed it. The thing could survive a summer in the Mojave, but couldn’t live a damn year in the Knudsen household. Only the truly mighty plants survive here. We take our Darwinism very seriously, even extending it to plants. So yeah, that cactus didn’t stand a chance.
I don’t know if I should be proud of myself or disappointed in the entire cactus genus (which is called Mammillaria, you uneducated swine). I think some of both. But, Christ calls us to stay humble, so I guess I’ll focus on the disappointment. I can’t bask on this too long, though, I have to keep moving forward.
I’ve got two succulents in the house now. Krystal was just given a pretty cute one by some friends of hers and I got her another one a while ago. Psh, those things will be dead in due time. Winter is coming. Those succulents need to mine more dragon glass if they are going to fend off my spray bottle army of the dead. It’s game over.
Yeah, so maybe I’m a serial plant killer. So what? We all have our skeletons in the closet, don’t we? I mean, my dog sits around all day and licks herself and I am made to feel like a monster for killing some plants? If me and the dog switched roles, I’d still be the weird one out licking myself! Dogs have it way too easy, but that’s a rant for another time.
If you don’t hear back from me, it’s probably because some snowflake somewhere has decided I’ve killed enough plants and summons an army of greenhouse workers to come lock me up. Until then, I’ll continue to slay all the fauna I come in contact with. Sometimes you just have to choose: Either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. I’ve made my choice – make yours.