Maybe (Maybe Not)

Maybe (Maybe Not) Read Free

Book: Maybe (Maybe Not) Read Free
Author: Robert Fulghum
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the wash? It wasn’t an accident.
    I know who sent you anonymous cards for Valentine’s Day.
    I know who took money out of my wallet.
    But I know you know who took money out of the piggy banks.
    At times I said I missed you when, in fact, I was glad to be alone for a while.
    I always said I was proud of you—even when I knew you could do better.
    I let you lie to me sometimes because the truth was too hard for all of us.
    Sometimes I said “I love you” when I didn’t love anyone, not even me.
    Your mother and I both played Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.
    But I was always the Easter Bunny.

A t the end of January, at the end of my desk, sits a potted poinsetta.
    Yes, I know that the correct spelling and pronunciation are “poinsettia.”
    I don’t care.
    And I am trying hard not to care about this particular plant.
    For my role in its life is that of executioner.
    Every year in December for as long as I can remember, at least one potted poinsetta has appeared in my life. I never buy one. Someone always gives me one. Unlike other seasonal gift flowers—lilies, daffodils, carnations, and such—poinsettas do not just bring their message and then die and leave your life in a graceful way. They have a life span comparable to a sea turtle, and are as tenacious as cacti. Even if neglected,they will hang on and on and on. Encouraged, they can become bushes sixteen feet high.
    Do you know how these things got into the holiday package in the first place? Joel Roberts Poinsett is to blame. He lived from 1779 to 1851 and spent his life as a South Carolina politician—elected first to the U.S. Congress and serving most of the rest of his life as a diplomatic envoy to various countries south of the border, most notably Mexico. Poinsett was a manipulative sort, and he managed to meddle in Mexican politics so often that he was officially declared persona non grata. The Mexicans coined the word
poinsettismo
to characterize his kind of intrusive behavior.
    When Poinsett returned to the United States, he brought a flowering plant with him, formally labeled
Euphorbia pulcherrima
, but popularly called “poinsettia” in his honor. Its winter foliage of red and green leaves quickly gave it a place of honor in our Christmas traditions. And a place of nuisance in January. As I contemplate the potted plant on my desk, I comprehend the personal meaning of
poinsettismo
—this problematic plant intrudes upon my life.
    If my wife had her way, we would have kept every poinsetta that ever entered our domicile. Our house would become a poinsetta refuge. Lynn the Good would not knowingly end the life of any living thing. It does no good to explain to her that poinsettas are not puppies. And she can’t stand leaving them neglectedaround the house while they slowly wither and expire. She covertly waters them when I am out of the house. In times past, we had poinsettas struggling on into July. We have finally agreed that “something” had to happen to poinsettas, but she doesn’t want to know exactly what.
    As usual, my lot is being the family criminal. I do the dirty deeds. Exterminate bugs and mice, throw out wilting flowers, and empty the refrigerator of mummified leftovers. And make the poinsettas disappear.
    At her insistence, I did try a few humane tactics. But I learned that giving away a poinsetta in January is like trying to unload zucchini in August. Neither the neighbors nor the Salvation Army had any interest. Leaving one on a bench at a bus stop in hopes it would be adopted didn’t work. The poinsetta was still there three days later. My wife rescued it and brought it home again. Tossing it in a nearby Dumpster brought the same result.
    I tried to interest her in a ceremony called “the Setting Free of the Poinsetta.” This involved taking the plant out of the pot, lowering it reverently off our dock into the water, and letting it float away on the lake. Maybe the wildlife would eat some of it, and the rest would blend into the

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