If I'm in the kitchen, I'm saying that... and I'm sick of it.
It's a spider plant baby and it hangs at the perfect height to hit me in the head Every. Single. Time. I stand at the kitchen sink. I have a feeling it will end up living on the patio with the other spider plant that decided having a baby would be a good idea.
(Yes, I know why they have babies. It doesn't mean I have to approve or put up with it.)
In other news...
HALF, bitches!
