Faux Mums for the Win
It happens every year. I see the mums. I buy the mums. I kill the mums. I ignore the heartfelt, good intentioned advice on Instagram about soaking those bi*ches in water before I put them out. I get busy like the rest of us, and then one early October day, I pull into the driveway and have fried mums. Look how naive and optimistic I was in this first photo. Surrounded by flowers that were never going to make it.
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