“Sweetums?”
“Yes?”
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“You know the bougainvillea out front?”
“Um … ”
“The large bush with the purple flowers?”
“Oh, yes. That bougainvillea.”
“I couldn't reach the top branches to trim them off. Could you finish trimming it for me?”
“Sure.”
“The gloves and clipper are on the table saw in the garage.”
“Okay … ow! Ouch! Ow! Ow! XXXX! XXXX! XXXXXXXXX!”
“Everything okay?”
“Why do bougainvilleas need spikes? One just went through my shoe!”
[And this is one of the smaller thorns on the darned things (and it's 3.5cm for those of you who are metrically savvy)] [1]
”Is your foot bleeding?”
“Um … no … ”
“That's good. You won't need a tetanus shot.”
“What? Aaah! Again, why does this bougainvilla need spikes anyway?”
“Well … you know … protection from predators.”
“Predators? What? Here? In Boca? Predators?”
“Yes.”
“What, is a giraffe just going to stroll down the street, see the bougainvillea and think ‘That bougainvillea bush is too spikey to eat. I shall mosey on down the road for less thorny fare.’?”
“You don't see any giraffes around here, do you? And because the giraffes aren't interested in this bush and stay away, that keeps the lions away. Thus, protection from predators.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
![[1] /boston/2016/10/24/bougainvillea.jpg](/gemini.conman.org/boston/2016/10/24/bougainvillea.jpg){kind=link}