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The Love Fern

This is the story of how one little tiny measly fern brought me to the brink of crazy.

Okay, let’s be honest, it pushed me over the brink.

And into the street.

New Love Fern. In the street. Lonely, sad, but keeping traffic company.

A fern. Some cars. A little snow (yes from last weekend). One great story.

Now I’m just getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. The day The Boy’s ex-girlfriend saw How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days is the day she bought The Boy a love fern. It was a cute gesture, that combined pop culture (I’ll high five her there) with sass and was a perfect way to symbolize their everlasting love.

Which, fortunately for me, didn’t last.

But the fern did.

And the day I learned this ex-love fern existed was the day I started plotting its demise. Because I’m a girl. And we’re crazy. Don’t lie, you’d do it too.

I bribed his roommate to quit watering it when The Boy would take a two week business trip out of town. I accidentally fed it red wine or diet coke when I had a little left over in my glass. This little ex-love fern was on its last leaf.

Which led me to the grand idea of surprising him with a replacement love fern.

If you just threw up in your mouth, I forgive you, that’s the cheesiest part of the story, I promise.

Helpful hint: when attempting to buy something new to replace something that’s held strong for years, the replacement has to be cooler than the original. Cheap plasticy-looking replacement love ferns will not do the trick. They will end up sitting on the table next to the cooler more real deal ferns. Which will really make the replacement look jankety and will inspire no one to get rid of anything.

Noted.

What will get rid of a love fern? Finding out that it has accidentally been over-watered and has been sitting in one large puddle on top of one very fancy dinning room table… all night long.

Yes, that’s how the plant ended up in the street. Yes, he chucked it out the back door, clearing 30 feet of back yard and where it landed in the gutter. Yes, there were choice words from The Boy’s mouth in the loudest reaction I’ve seen from him in the last year.

It was totally and completely amazing.

But it was totally and completely amazing with my love fern.

I mean, was I hurt that my love fern was the one accidentally over-watered that got chucked out the door? Sure. Was I unhappy that the ex-love fern was still sitting happily on the living room table? Sure. Was I sad that my plan had failed and I was ready to accept defeat because I’m a rational adult who knows how to control her overemotional girl responses?

Man I’d like to say yes.

But we all know better. There may have been threats to chuck the ex-love fern out the door myself. Which I think was really just a grown up way to clearly and evenly tempered tell him how much I loathed that other fern and I wanted it to die.

Okay, maybe I lied a little. I’m still a totally over reacting crazy woman. Whoops.

And when I found out early this week (thanks roommate!) that The Boy had dumped the ex-love fern into the trash was there was rejoicing in all of the lands? Yes.

Did people everywhere start singing “Ding dong the fern is dead?!”

If ‘people everywhere’ can mean just little-old-me? Then yes.

You’ll be happy to know that this story has a happy ending. I’ve promised to take him plant shopping, so he’ll be able to water an attractive long lasting plant he really likes that I’ve given him. And not some trashy ex-girlfriend perfectly nice stranger.

In summary, this is a story of how a plant drove me into being a total and complete lunatic in the name of love. But really, I think that Kate Hudson would applaud my efforts. In fact, I feel a tribute movie night coming on.

And know, if you’ve bought someone a love fern, do the next girl a favor and take that sucker with you.

Or leave it and know she’s miserable.

Tough decision really…

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