There is a ridiculous little drama playing out in my kitchen right now. Just look at this.

Okay, let’s get a little closer:

What?! There is so much wrong with this picture.

First.

Why is everything I’m intending to grow dead or dying?

Please, please do not send the Department of Family and Children’s Services to my home based solely on my obvious lack of natural nourishing instincts. However, if there is a DFACS equivalent for plant life, I am prepared to turn myself in.

Second.

WHO.
Gets.
WEEDS
in their INDOOR PLANTS?

This is completely absurd. Not that I remember much anything about biology, but I’m pretty sure in order for this weed to exist, a male plant part and a female plant part would have had to find each other and make sweet love (is that completely off?).

And I like to think my home is not the most fertile grounds for botanical mating rituals? Could be wrong?

…then, said offspring (pollen? seed?) would have had to float on a magic carpet and despite all odds, land in this tiny 8-inch circle of fertile soil on my countertop. His life is a miracle.

I’m pretty sure my understanding of botany is ultra science-y and precise, but I may be slighty rusty.

Meanwhile:

The jade plant which was intentionally groomed, nurtured and loved, and carefully potted in this plant mansion… is giving up and literally trying to jump out of the pot onto the cold countertop where it can wither and die.

Don’t do it, jade! You have so much to live for!

It’s all very dramatic.

Andy and I had an important family meeting to decide how to deal with this situation. We both agreed not to dig up the weed for now, mostly on principle (He overcame such odds to get here! It’s a miracle! Look at the little sport go!) but also because we want to see what he grows up to be.

I’m betting it’s a magical beanstalk.