Rotten Tomatoes

I hate tomatoes. I fucking hate tomatoes. They, literally, make me vomit. I hate the smell of them; I hate the feel of them in my mouth; I hate the taste of them. I hate tomatoes.

I also hate gardening. I have a "brown thumb." I kill plants, mercilessly. I got this friend of mine, who is a great gardener, to plant a tree in front of my house a few months ago, because I like trees. My yard is all crappy looking and treeless. Now, my front yard is still crappy and treeless, but it is also home to a dead withered stick and standing bravely in the dirt sprouting weeds. People say "water it, but not too much" and "fertilize it, but just the right amount" and "give it some sun, but not too much sun, but not too much shade." Screw it. I can't figure it out. It's difficult, yet boring, the worst kind of task. I'd rather do anything than garden; it's just not interesting to me. It involves dirt and bugs and prickly plants and sweat and being outside without a book, a lounge chair and a cool drink. I'd rather clean the bathroom or do the dishes or learn to juggle (which I also hate, but not as much as gardening) or just sit on my ass in the grass outside.

So, I have this other friend who is insanely codependent. I know, I'm one fucked up codependent bitch; she's worse. She likes gardening. She likes tomatoes. She has convinced herself that it is her mission in life to get me both to like tomatoes (because in nearly 40 years I have clearly never eaten a "good" tomato; all the ones that made me vomit were "bad" tomatoes) and to garden. She must change me until I like these things. Then I will be happy and my life will be complete. Gardening and tomatoes are what I am lacking. To this end, she bought me a tomato plant and planted it in my yard. I haven't watered it since she brought it to me a week ago. Sometimes I think about it, but it's not a good time (i.e. the kids are awake and in the house). Mostly I just don't think about it because I'm not interested in gardening and I fucking hate tomatoes. So it's been sitting in my yard wilting, slowly dying the death that all plants in my care must. She is going to come visit today and criticize me for not taking care of the plant I don't want and be hurt because I don't love her enough to take care of the plant I don't want.

I think children are more fulfilling than plants, so I am going to return the favor by sneaking into her house and hiding her fucking birth control. Then she will be happy and her life will be complete and she'll be too busy to try to get me to grow and eat fucking tomatoes.