I’m a Horrible Plant Father

So I killed all of my plants.  It’s horrible.  I feel like I should be taken in by CPS, only it wouldn’t be CPS, it would be PPS, and then I’d get beaten for making immature PP jokes.  Then they’d ask me if I was even taking this seriously and I’d be all, “Um, hello, they were plants, not people.  We eat them.  What part of this do you not understand?”  And then they’d throw chlorophyll on me and call me a monster, but PETA would applaud me, and then I’d invite the PETA people to a nice steak dinner, and then I’d be covered in pig’s blood and chlorophyll.  Then I’d have to convert BACK to Christianity because I’d be Christmas colors and I’m just not okay with that.

But, yeah, I killed them.  It was more an accidental homicide, but, alas, my babies are all dead or dying.  Even my totally rockin pumpkin that was kicking ass and taking names…poor thing’s trying to protect itself…which basically means it cut itself off from everything and is going to be a tiny little nub coming out of the dirt in the next day or two.  I almost cried.  And this late in the year I likely won’t get much of a harvest from the seedlings I planted after this gruesome discovery, if I get any kind of harvest, and that’s assuming they’re even going to germinate.

I’m ready this time, though.  If they do, in fact, germinate, they’ll do so right around the time of my next check, which means I can make a tiny little greenhouse for them, so hopefully they’ll all survive.  The greenhouse won’t really work for the peppers, though.  Those’ll just stay out and enjoy their natural habitat.  If Texas weather cooperates.

Yeah, when your backyard’s green in June out here, it signifies a problem.  That’s just not natural for Texas.

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