Tracey planting the plant in her sister’s car. 2003. This will make more sense after you read the post below.
Reading a recent article about a game of tag a bunch of middle age men have been playing every February for years has reminded me of our own bit of fun with Jason & Bel (Tracey’s sister) and Joshua & Mel (Tracey’s bestie).
Years ago, Tracey and I held a How To Host A Murder party and bought some props from a thrift shop to set the mood in our dining room. The best purchase we made was a tall, plastic rainforest plant. In the cold light of day it was hideously ugly but it sure made us laugh.
The plant’s uncanny ability for producing mirth revealed itself when Tracey’s sister, Bel, and her hunka-hunka burning love, Jason, were moving furniture from under their parent’s house to their new place in Brisvegas. We decided to give them the plant as a housewarming gift. They didn’t want to deprive us of it. We decided to insist.
Tracey and I spent the better part of two hours trying to sneak the plant into the back of the truck while Jason and Bel’s backs were turned. Finally, Jason stomped down the ramp and ‘planted’ the offending thing at our feet. It was the end of a really, really long day of moving stuff. “We don’t. Want. The plant.”
“I don’t think he wants to play anymore,” I whispered to Tracey as he walked away.
“He’s tired. He doesn’t know what he wants,” Tracey assured me. But we stopped trying to get it in the back of the truck. Until right at the end when they were closing the doors. I distracted them while Tracey shoved it in. “They’ll thank us later,” Tracey assured me as they drove off.
They didn’t. When they opened the truck doors the tall plant stood grinning at them in all its plastic splendor.
“Fark!” Jason apparently, appreciatively said. But what they did next would change all our lives for the better. Instead of tossing it in the bin they decided to give the thing straight back next time they came to town.
We were thrilled because it meant we could give it straight back to them, again without their knowledge. Here’s a vid of them driving off, beeping their horn in farewell as we rejoin in our evil doings.
This time Jason discovered it a mere hour down the road when he glanced in the rear view mirror of their hatchback and spotted the telltale stalk sticking up through their luggage.
And so a game began which has kept us all savagely amused for years as the plant has made its way from one home to another in all sorts of imaginative and creative ways.
Jason & Bel really weren’t very good at this game initially. My favourite was when we folded the plant in half and stuffed it into an empty suitcase of theirs. They only discovered it six months later, the night before they went on a holiday, and started packing.
Eventually the plant had been shoved and folded and tossed so much in its journey’s back and forth up the east coast of Queensland, it was nothing more than a sad leaf on a stick. We sent it to that great big plastic rainforest in the sky and replaced it with a couple of life-sized kids dolls (why not?) and Tracey’s bestie, Mel and her husband, Joshua, joined in.
By this stage Bel and Jason had moved to G-town and soon the Twins were cropping up in gardens and cupboards across town, often in compromising positions. It was a great game. Whenever you had one of the other couples over you’d go to great pains not to leave one of them unsupervised for fear they’d be hiding the Twins in your washing machine.
Then, about three years ago the game just sort of fizzled. It was sad, but we guessed it had run its course. Eventually, we stopped waiting for the twins to turn up and even allowed Jason and Bel to wander out of our sight in our house.
But last week Tracey got a call from her friend. They’d been doing a clean out in the garage. “Oh my God!” she said to Tracey. “We just found the twins in the garage!”
Of course we see what happened now. The game wasn’t over at all.
Best. Hiding spot. Ever.
Well played, Jason & Bel. Well played. Looks like you guys have leveled up.
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