The Blob – Part 1

I hate plants.  Everyone knows that I hate plants.  I have always refused to have plants.  So, when I decided to grow things at the house for the boys, the people that know me were shocked.  And yes, I shocked myself by the fact that I actually got things to grow…and to produce things… and those things were editable.

I shocked people even more by bringing in the plants when there was a frost warning… and setting them up with grow lights.  Hey!  Don’t even think of calling me a ‘plant hippie’.  I still hate plants.  But I do see economic value of growing things for the boys…

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On Monday I set up a table and some grow lights.  I lugged in the plants and their water trays one by one into the house and set them up.  I saved the ‘Big Boy’ for last.  ‘Big Boy’ is a 20+ year old plant that I inherited from someone who retired at school.  He’s in a 50 gallon pot and a large pain in the rear to move.  I took out the hand cart and literally lugged him inside into the kitchen.  One he was up on the water pan, I felt a sense of accomplishment.  ‘He will get plenty of morning light thought the sliding doors,’ I thought.

As far as I was concerned, I was done for the night.  I went to the couch and laid down for a ‘bit’.  Two hours later, I was rudely awakened by an odd noise.  *Brrrrrrr*  “What the heck was that?” I asked the empty room.  “Boys?” I called upstairs.  *wheek, wheek* Fred or Lamont responded back to me.  Then I heard something again: *bruuuuug*.  “What the heck is that?” I asked again.  There was no response.  It came a third time: *burghhhh*

“That came from the kitchen!” I whispered.  I grabbed my phone and a tissue box from the coffee table.  “What the hockey-stick is that?” I asked quietly.  *brup-brup-brup*  I slowly creeped down the short hallway past the house’s utility closet.  I stuck my head around the corner to see what was there.  There was a large dark blob in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“Oh,” I sighed, “I dropped some dirt on the floor.”  I figured that the noise was outside.  I walked into the kitchen.  The blob suddenly moved. “What the?!” I screamed and jumped back.  The blob jumped towards me.  “Holly fungus banana!” I yelled as I threw the tissue box in its general direction, grabbed a chair, and jumped on top of it.  “What the hockey is that!?!?” I added for good measure.

I clutched my phone seriously considering calling 911.  The blob made another noise.*brup-p-p*  “Aughhhh!” I yelled, “You’re a frog!  A Toad! Wait You’re a….  Which one are you?  Do you live in water or not?!?” I said arguing with blob on the floor.  “But, what are you doing inside!” I barked.  “How did you get in here?!?” I asked it.  Then I demanded, “GET OUT! GET OUT!”

The toad, er, frog, er, blob, gazed back at me with empty eyes.  It took another small leap towards me.  “AUGHHHHHH!” I screamed, jumped off of the chair, and took off into the living room.  I managed to hurdle the couch in one single leap.  As I stood there heaving in expiration and fear, I heard the blob make a noise *brrrrr*.   Then another *brrrr* came.  The second one was closer.  I leaned over the couch and saw that the blob was at the edge of the kitchen and utility hall.  “NOOOOOOOO!” I yelled as it leapt on to the rug.

“SON OF A MONKEY’S UNCLE!” I shrieked.  “STAY IN THE KITCHEN! STAY IN THE…”  I was too late.  The blob leaped again.  It was now half way down a very, very short hall and moving towards me…

Well, I will have to leave you here in the story.  It’s late and I’ve got school in the morning.  But I promise that next week’s blog will include how I got rid of the blob.  Have a good week! – KA

The Plant that I call “Big Boy”. – KA

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