Potatoes

​I should not be allowed to buy potatoes anymore. I'm ready to turn myself in to Social Services for being an unfit guardian. When I buy potatoes I buy two- one for now and one for later. And having dutifully Googled potato storage, I know that they should be stored in the dark so they don't sprout. So I take this precious later potater and find it the deepest, darkest most secret cave in my house, sometimes in the kitchen but sometimes not, and I tuck it in for a nice nap where it will not be disturbed.
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Six months later, while chasing a spider, I find the potato. It is more sprout than spud, wildly spiny and wreathed in an odd odor, and I make a move to tip off National Geographic that I have discovered a new deep sea creature.

​Then I remember that I'm just an unfit mother who has turned her potato into a monster again.