gardening brings about unexpected maternal rage

Turns out my downfall will not be my gay Ipod but perhaps the giant pile of poison ivy i fell into today whilst trying to uproot a rather feisty maple tree.

without question uma thurman’s poison ivy is more painful then the boil inducing rash caused by the actual plant.

Trying to pull up that feisty tree  made me feel like an overworked ent mother whose trying to send her tree spawn to bed when they want to stay up late and watch fall arrive. And no matter how much you plea and beg and threaten to ground them if they don’t head to bed right this instant all they do is stay rooted to that one spot, and pretend they can’t hear you. And later when your like I’VE BEEN CALLING YOUR FOR AEONS. they are all like ‘oh i thought that was the wind.’ and there is no way you could beleaf that lie because you used the same trick when you were just a sapling. So you just let them lie to your bark because it’s easier then having a fight, and you secretly pray that their children are even bigger shits than they are.

Yeah pulling up that maple tree today filled me with weird maternal rage, until in my victory yank I unbalanced myself and fell into what I can only really describe as a downy bed of toxic plants.

Ent with birthing hips.

(Ok yeah I know there are no female Ent’s anymore, (or ent wives as they are called) as they were all supposedly lost… how does one lose a tree, they’re hardly hard to notice. I mean sure forests are filled with them, but certainly an alluring sentient female oak has got to stand out. )

so now i’m laying in bed, drinking antihistamines like they’re water, and realizing that if i erupt in lesions, at least the cure is pumping yourself filled with steroids. Hello slammin artificial summer bod, where have you been all my life.


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