The other day, this arrived in my mailbox:
There was no note, so naturally, I assumed it was laced with anthrax. No matter that it was the day after my birthday and several people had asked me for my address and one of those people happens to be JUST the type of person to send a plant with no note.
Sometime before I put two and two together, but after I determined that the plant was not anthrax and didn't seem to be ticking (because I assume all weapons are made by Acme) I started to feel bad for this lonely plant. Like it had wandered onto my doorstep, whimpering, desperate for a home. I had to take care of it. So, I did the only thing I knew to do: watered it, dressed it up in Anthropologie, and named it Bob.
Of course, eventually I realized that Bob The Plant was a birthday gift and it hadn't chosen me to nurse it back to health. But I like my story better.