This morning I plucked my avocado plant by the stem and threw it into the trash. BAM!

Gone!

It was so easy to dispose of, but why had I decided to grow an avocado plant in the first place?

In truth, I have always wanted to grow a plant from seed to full-blown produce. But I can’t seem to grow them on my own.

I grew up in a family of farmers and growers, and admittedly, I do have a green thumb, just not the ability to create any long-lasting attachment to plants. I grow impatient. Like a thought formed too early and left alone at the wrong times.

I should be able to grow something that needs daily care–possibly children. But that’s a conversation for another day; let’s not talk of my fear of being a horrible parent and not being able to provide care for smaller versions of myself or my spouse.

Right, back to the avocado plant, I was romanced by the idea of homegrown avocados they talk about on those youtube channels with huge gardens and trees everywhere. I envied them and thought I could do it too. With no preparation at all, I dove in like a fool.

It’s scary now that I think about it; after uprooting the avocado plant, I found out that the pot’s worms survived the harsh few months after the soil transfer. I was a bit taken aback; who knew that those little buggers were so resilient.

Now here I am sitting at my desk thinking of the symbolic nature of worms and avocado plants. Surely they cared for each other; I may just have become a plant villain. Does that mean I now walk around looking for plants to execute?

It sounds a bit nefarious and dramatic, for that matter, but who says a little flare of drama isn’t helpful for your life.

So here I am, plant killer extraordinaire, at your service, ready to take out useless plants that won’t give you any fruit for the next 12 years.

You’re welcome.

I might just have been that avocado plant hero, after all.