Desperate for attention, my writing desk flew into a rage, oozing and groaning and rattling the drawers—again for the millionth time since I bought it maybe ten years ago. No, it’s not possessed. I wish it were because then I’d know what to do. Typically, these episodes only last about a second—maybe I lose a desk drawer or something, and I have to knock it back into place, but this time was different. The groaning eventually became words, which became a full sentence, which resembled a request:
Get some plants for crying out loud! This office needs plants! But not real ones. We all know what happens when you get real ones—the plant community is pretty upset with you—your face is on a LOT of wanted signs. PLASTIC PLANTS. GET PLASTIC PLANTS.
Plastic plants have definitely come a long way. Back in middle school and high school, I’d look for decorations for 4-H projects and such, and the plastic plant selection looked, well, fake. Globules of green drippy things that looked like mistakes would stick out from a stem. A spray-paint job on a sunflower would go incredibly wrong. And the only places I could find these things would be craft shops and chic import stores.
Now, even places like Fred Meyer are crawling with plastic plants—and they’re gorgeous. I spotted a succulent arrangement and some kind of “herb” variety in the home décor section, and I just knew they’d shut my writing desk up straight away. In fact, the herb variety looked like I could snip its leaves and cook with it, but I won’t. Most importantly, they looked and acted like they were not possessed.
When I got the plants home and put them on my desk, the room opened up with brightness. I half expected a rainbow to burst through the ceiling, accompanied by a symphony of angels, bluebirds, and those really happy Care Bears stars that talk in a cute, high voice and say, “Go ahead, make a wish!” And then the writing desk threw up—but none of it ended up on the plants, and that’s all that matters.
Your Turn: What’s your favorite kind of plant?