Seedlings, Not Siblings

I work for a plant store and nursery. We’re helping out a local botanical garden by raising a lot of a certain plant, so we have a lot of plants outside getting ready for multiple pick-ups. 

A car pulls into the parking lot, and a woman gets out, opening the back door and ushering out three young children.

She then stops, looks around as if for the first time, and looks confused.

Woman: “Google said this was a nursery?”

Me: “Yes, a plant nursery.”

Woman: “Where do I leave the kids?”

Me: “Again, a plant nursery. Not that kind of nursery.”

Woman: “What’s a plant nursery?”

I gesture to the huge selection of plants covering the entire storefront.

Me: “A place where we nurse plants from seeds to the point where they can be sold and survive in customers’ homes and gardens.”

Woman: “Well… don’t call this place a nursery! It’s confusing! You’re not even looking after things that run around!”

She looks at her kids again, standing there still and chill, and then looks back to me, expectantly.

Woman: “I don’t suppose… you could…”

Me: “—I only look after things that photosynthesize.”

She huffs and ushers her kids back into the car.

Woman: “Come on, kids, looks like you’re going to annoy mommy’s hairstylist again…”