I’ve reached a new level of staying homedom. I’ve begun talking to my plants. The most interesting part is that I’ve discovered I’m harboring multiple personalities.

For the kitties, I treat them like very small babies. They pretty much do what they want, when they want, and only pay attention to me when I have food. This seems very much what small babies do. Play in their own world until they want something from you and then they cry. My girls cry and climb in your lap and scratch your face until you wake up yelling “alright, I’ll feed you already.” I don’t have a child but I think this might be somewhat similar.

With Artie, I’m drill sargent. “Get out of the garbage.” “Don’t eat that cat.” “Stop biting the mailman.” “Don’t jump.” “Sit.” “Stay.” And rewards are strangely military too with a firm pat on the head and a loud “good dog”.

But today I discovered a new personality with my indoor plants. With them, I become God. When I water them, I’ll often say “torrential downpour! Massive flooding! Monsoon season!” Sometimes, if I’m lazy, I’ll walk by a wilting plant and whisper “drought” if I don’t feel like pulling out the watering can. I’m quite sure that if the plant could understand me, they’d think I was some sort of weather God since whatever I say happens. My personal favorite is to yell “eclipse!” and close the curtains. That one just cracks me up. I’m not sure how long I’ve been doing this but I must say I’m rather surprised at my God complex. I mean, it’s just not like to me to be such a dictator.

Dang, I still can’t say that with a straight face. Gotta run, I have an orchid that’s going to be ending a 2 week drought with a light mist.

It ain’t easy being me.