I have a lot of Mother-of-millions plants. I love them. Because they're triffids: really aggressive growers that spill their babies into neighbouring pots which then grow and try to strangle smaller, more meek plants. Yeahh!
Jack hates them though. They are a little bit ugly I guess.
Well, anyway, the mother of all my mothers did a dirty great flower the other day which spat sticky powder all over the window. Then she curled over and her leaves got gnarled and she sent out hairy little roots all over her limbs, desperately searching for some more soil.
Jack gave me a sideways eyes look and suggested her time might be up. I was sad to admit it but he was right. So I put the monster in the bin. And as I pushed her down I snapped a woody stem and the resulting sharp edge was forced in to the palm of my hand. I got a proper cut of it, a big gash right in the middle of my hand.
It really hurt.
It's like a bloody Stephen King novel round my ends sometimes.
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