On Tuesday, I was quietly reading and minding my own business. There was a sudden, but whispered, sound; like the flap of owl wings followed by a soft plop. I looked up curiously, though nothing was readily guilty of the noise. All I knew was that it came from the general direction of the TV. Hmm.
I was ready the next time the sound came, minutes later, and I caught the culprit in the act. By golly, my tulips were committing suicide! I bought them on Friday to console myself that Ben and Gabe were going out of town. Lovely, tall spring flowers were just the ticket to cheer myself up while bereft of my adult companions. To my surprise, my sweet-smelling friends didn't seem to reciprocate my affection and the petals were simply falling off the stems to their wilting doom behind the TV.
Plants never love me as much as I love them.