Flowers talk too you know. One night I was lying in bed with the lights out when a flutey voiced so-and-so disturbed me, talking to the roses in the bedroom.
"Mummy loves us, but she doesn't feed us any water."
Oh, dear, I thought, I must do something about that in the morning.
Next morning came and I went over to the plant in question and felt the soil. Damp.
"Joking!" came the flutey voice.
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