My daughter walked into the living room and froze.
“What’s that?” she said, pointing in stunned disbelief at the flowering plant on the end table. I have a reputation for killing plants.
“It’s my Christmas cactus.”
“Is it new?”
“No! I’ve had it for a few years. It blooms faithfully every Christmas and Easter.”
She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, before asking, “Does it have to be dying to flower?”
I smirked sheepishly, “Well. Yes.”
“I knew it!” she shouted, to the aggrevation of the poodles.
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Shawn L. Bird 
hahaha!