It's been raining and somewhat balmy all week here in Chico. The excessive moisture and the warm air has caused a tree stump in our yard to sprout mushrooms. The same thing happened last year, but the boyfriend went out and chopped the mushrooms down with a shovel. When I found out what he had done, I was horrified. There were a lot of questions I needed to ask myself. What events had transpired in my life that led me shack up with a man who would do such a thing to innocent mushrooms? How could I share our pre-marital bed with this monster? Could I spend the rest of my life with someone who does not get how cool mushrooms are? I was lost and afraid. I called my best-friend and she was horrified, too. "Does he realize what he's done?" "I don't think so" I told her. After a prolonged period of soul-searching I decided to forgive him and give the relationship another chance. He doesn't even know that I came close to ditching his ass over some fungus in the yard. There are some things that are sacred and truths that are self-evident. The fucking sanctity of mushrooms is one of them.
He called me from work the other day, just to sweet talk. I screamed into the phone, "The mushrooms are back and if you chop them down this year I'm going to call the police!"
