For the last couple of years, I have inexplicably yearned for a green thumb. What I actually have are blackened little nubs because plants don’t commonly scream for food like animals and kids. This is totally on Mother Nature, people, she should have given those little buggers squeakers or something. Failing that, she gave me Tugs who likes to water plants and remembers to. My poor little spider plant initially did well but started looking sickly, probably because I forgot to water it. Dozer felt strongly that it was getting too much sun, so I repotted it and placed the planter on the counter, a little less in the sun. Enter my elderly, beloved kitty, Elliot, who thought that spider plant looked like a cozy snuggle spot. Esmeralda, the spider plant (Yes, Dozer, I name everything, including plants and salt shakers. Hey, Geronimo) has once again been rehoused and is adorning the freaking window that has a hook.
I feel that Plant Lady is probably glaring at my house. I’m a little concerned that she might enter my home to rescue the plant…I’ve met her, it could totally happen. I wonder if she can be appeased by Serendipity, Siobhan, and Serenity, (Pictured below) who are doing very well. I call the basil Basil because we don’t name food. Someday, when I get my little farm, it will have little bacon seeds, goats and chickens, (which alarm me, but I have to make concessions, too) Their names will be things like Bacon and Ham, Billy and Nanny, and Henney-Penney. I might name one Mergatroid in honor of my best girlfriend’s oldest child, who was called that while gestating. On second thought, maybe that’s creepy. Names matter.
I’m partly on names right now because Dozer’s oldest is having baby number two soon and can’t settle on a name. I’m not criticizing, she’ll know who he is when he’s in her arms. One of the rules are that the first and middle initials need to be the same, which makes the song John Jacob Jingle-Heimer-Smith play on a fairly perpetual loop in my brain. I like Jesse James and Billy Bonnie. It’s probably good that Miss Shannon does not get a vote. She is very aware that she currently has a weird position in these kids’ lives, even though she wants to eat them up just like Aiden Michael and Raelynn. These are people who don’t even have weird grandparent names… everyone is Grandma Suzette and Grandpa Elmer. In my family, we have Gigis and Rowrows and Paws and Pop-pops. Is Step-Gigi even a thing? Who knows? Now, my oldest daughter is about to marry a man who has a child. Technically, I am not that child’s grandmother. Life isn’t fair, but not one those little boys are not going to learn that from me. Gigi can love ALL the little children, biology doesn’t enter the equation.
Being forty one, most of my friends are still raising their kids. I started early, and being my hippy-dippy, free love self, I told my kids that sex is great and every blessed one of them believed me. I also talked about safety and condoms and offered rides to Planned Parenthood, but I don’t think their listening ears were as tuned in then. Miss Shannon supports your right to choose, but she really thinks babies are always a blessing… how can such a cute little snuggle buggle be anything else?? Sweet Neptune, I hope she doesn’t name the kid Jamie Johnson, which is what Dozer is shooting for. As ever, my advice when naming a child is this: Go to a crowded kid location and scream the entire name, first middle and last, at the top of your lungs. If you feel really stupid or people look at you oddly, pick a different name. Life ain’t easy for a boy named Sue…. How do you do??