The One Where Suzette Pays $25 For A Single Day Lily … and then wakes up to find that her husband has helpfully pulled a weed except no actual weeds got pulled in fact nothing else at all got pulled only the single $25 day lily. He’s done this before and every time I have escalated the intensity of the shit fit I throw to be sure he understands that he must not do it ever again. Last summer, when he did this to a 5 foot tall sun flowerish perennial covered with flower buds about to open, it was a mighty scene let me tell you. I though it made a lasting impression on him, but me and Bela Lugosi are here to tell you that apparently, it did not. I went out to that area early this morning to pull some actual weeds in preparation for the lavender I was planning to put in today. I saw a hole where the centerpiece of my new bed used to be. This bed is 98% plain dirt and this plant was sticking up, bright green growth about 4″ tall, near the driveway border. I should have known better, but I sent him on a mission that put him in near proximity of the bed. I asked him to measure it so that I could plot out my plantings on graph paper before I went out to buy what I needed. Like sending an alcoholic into a bar. He could not resist. He did however manage to resist the few scant weeds in that bed and also a common wild day lily coming up 12″ away from the Bela Lugosi. It’s like he’s got a detector for which green growing thing would I miss the most if it was gone. And you know, when I saw the hole, I had a feeling he was responsible so I walked over to check my garbage can to see if it was in there. But it wasn’t and also the neighbor’s trash can was tipped over so I thought okay maybe it was a raccoon. So I came in the house and I couldn’t sit down so I went back out with the measuring tape to see for myself and there it was on the driveway, next to almost under a stack of mulch he brought home yesterday. The leaves were pulled off of the tuber so it must have given him a fight, but still he persisted until he got it out. Well, what’s done is done. Can’t change the past. Here’s my recovery plan:
- replant the tuber and hope for the best
- remain calm, maybe take a relaxing bath
- wait until he gets out of bed
- grab an axe and bash his brains out
UPDATE: He got up. We had a discussion.He is not dead. I insisted that he take an oath that this will never happen again, but frankly I know that must live out the rest of my days dreading that it will. Over and over again. Anyway, here’s what I have planned for that little bed. p.s. I just ordered two new Bela Lugosi’s. Take that, Sami.