Monstera Deliciosa, Chaos Gloriosa

Rabies. Roundworm. Salmonella. Giardiasis.

Racoons carry and transmit all of these things. I hadn’t heard of that last one, but it’s parasites found in contaminated water that, if come into contact with, can lead to major tummy rumbles.

One would not want one’s three-year-old getting giardiasis, would one?

I live in a cookie-cutter, concrete block, basic-b house with my family, and one way we’ve carved out an aesthetic that combats the millennial gray of things is by decorating with green, live plants in every room and on every possible surface. Plant hoarding, if you will.

My husband is the horticulturist and I’m the stylist. Which leads me to how I almost infected my precious toddler with a parasite or flu-like illness.

I’ve been needing a monstera. A big, juicy one for our living room. So, we went to the plant nursery up the street on a Saturday and I recorded cute vids of my daughter splashing in the display foundations while my husband went in search of the juiciest monstera he could find.

After my child had splashed around for damn near an hour, a store rep came up to gently whisper, “You might not want her playing in the fountains. The raccoons get in them at night. There’s a hose over there if you want to rinse her off.”

…Pardon moi?

Raccoon rivers in these here fountains, you say?

Rinse her off with a HOSE?

Lady, direct me to the nearest bathroom and your ANTIBIOTIC SOAP, please!

Ugh. I’m such a sketchy mom.

But the monstera looks LOVELY in our living room. Really brings the space to life.