Hey, poison sumac, I know you think you’re cool. You’re all, “She’s doing yard work and on the lookout for poison ivy. Who’s ever on the lookout for poison sumac? I can fly under the radar. I’ll just sit here in her flower bed and look like a small tree. She’ll think, ‘hey, what’s a small tree doing in my flower bed?’ and will grab my leaves full of sweet, delicious poison. Victory is mine!”
Yeah, poison sumac, you won this round. I want to scratch my skin off and I slightly resemble a leper. But I’m on to you. I’ve done my internet research and now know what you look like. Don’t bother trying to pull your little shenanigans again, because it won’t work. You can’t fool me any more.
p.s. Did you know that sumac spelled backwards is Camus, who wrote The Stranger, which I’ve had to read in both English and French and hated with a passion each time? So I hate you both forwards AND backwards.