I will not accept anything less than you being the tallest rubber plant in this room. Failure is not an option.
You are my only rubber plant. Do not disgrace me.
I will water you occasionally. Too much water will make you weak, sluggish, and heavy.
You can’t have any other plants sleep over. You need your rest. You can see them in the morning, through the window.
You cannot be in a play. Theater is a waste of time that you should devote to your work. At Christmas, I’ll place lights around you and allow you to dress up as a fir tree. That’s enough fun for the year.
I’m glad not to hear you complaining about this. Silence is golden.
We are not getting a television, and I won’t leave the music on when I go out. We certainly are not going to get any of those CDs where people talk to plants. Those people would be bad influences on you. They’d probably make you want to be hoisted above your station in a macramé sling.
You will not get any grade other than A. Since you do not go to school, this rule should be difficult for you to fuck up.
You must play the piano, and the violin. How you do that is your business, but by the end of the summer I want to hear Fur Elise—from memory. If you make a mistake, you have to start over.
I will decide what other activities you will participate in. That would be: none. Deal with it.