Poinsettia Hall of Shame

I think my calm assertiveness made it needy

I hit the Poinsettia care giving season full throttle determined not to find myself in the Poinsettia Hall of shame. My strategy  included a weekly reminder popping up on my computer telling me to water the finicky thing every Friday at 9 a.m.. My second plan was to keep the plant as far away from me (and my Murphey Law shadow), so I placed it on a table in front of the window across from my desk. My third idea I got from Ceaser Millan, aka The Dog Whisperer.... No touch, no

Naked from the neck down. Ain't got no pants on

talk, no eye contact, in other words, the least amount of myself it was exposed to, the better off it would be. I'll have to say my plan worked like a charm until.... I missed work on Friday, therefore I didn't get my weekly reminder and when I got to work on Monday, the dang thing was drooping like a bloodhounds saggy eyes. Geeze, I was just a

Took the lead with amazing speed this weekend

couple of days late with the water. My theory is that using the Dog Whisperers form of bonding, the Poinsettia became so attached to me, it sensed my puny energy when I was out sick Friday, and reacted in like manner by becoming droopy and traumatized itself. In my opinion, the likelihood of recovering is slim to none. There are two other Poinsettias in

The Hall (or Wall) of Shame

the office. One doesn't look too bad, the other is naked from the neck down. I thought I had this one made in the shade with lemonade, but looks like I'm headed for the Poinsettia Hall of Shame after all. Oh well, there is always next year.