Bamboozled

Today's word: offset.  Definition: There are more than you'd think, but I'm going with 5) Botany  A shoot that develops laterally at the base of a plant, often rooting to form a new plant.

The first thing this definition brought to mind was my ailing curly bamboo plant, which I've had for the last six years and, after thriving unbelievably for all that time, has now begun to wither.  The leaf tips are steadily browning, and it hasn't grown any new shoots, and I have no idea what to do about that.

I've grown quite attached to this plant, not just because it looks super cool, and not just because I bought it right before I moved to the Twin Cities on my own, but because it's the only plant I've ever been able to keep alive. I think the reason for this success is the fact that bamboo requires two main things:  keep it out of direct sunlight, and don't over-water it.  Oh, and you only need to water it about once a month.  That's a very big plus in my book, since I tend to forget to water greenery and only notice it when the leaves start dropping off.

(Case in point:  one of my coworkers went on furlough for a month and left me a note asking me to water his plants.  I put this note directly above my computer screen so I would see it every single day.  I finally gave those plants a drink eight days before he returned. They are still alive, but they all have PTSD.)

This inattentivness used to bother me a bit.  After all, it doesn't reflect well on my abilities as a caregiver for my as-yet-imaginary future children. I mean, I had an obligation toward another living organism that involved grabbing a glass, going to the tap, walking ten steps to the table, and pouring liquid on it, and I failed to do these four very simple steps on a consistent enough basis to meet that organism's basic needs.  But to those who would declare "Irresponsible!"  I say this:  Plants don't cry.

But what if they did?  And what if they cried all the time, for reasons unbeknownst to us?  Would we put up with a constantly weeping begonia?  Or what if they could express other emotions, and we were forced to live with calla lilies that laughed hysterically, or hostas that shouted obscenities?

I'm not saying it's logical, people.  I'm just saying think about it.

One of my favorite "Deep Thoughts" from Saturday Night Live goes something like this:  "If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down?  Maybe, if they screamed all the time, and for no apparent reason."

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, if you somehow ended up with a manic depressive African violet) plants do not cry, and I am reassured by this in relation to my parenting skills.  To be fair, you cannot forget to feed a kid for 20 days without hearing at least a small grumble.  I don't want to deter any intelligent single men who may just be my as-yet-imaginary future husband by revealing this personal fault.  So I will say that I'm reasonably certain I could make a pretty serious commitment to providing regular sustenance for our child. I find a good deal of comfort in that, and I hope they do, too.

Because I will probably want a partner in crime, so to speak, in order to acquire that imaginary future child.  Unlike plants, I can't just produce an offset that roots in next to me and magically springs upward out of the soil, ready to rock and roll.  But what if I could?

Think about it.