Persuasive Essay On Aloe

She sat down in the corner on her oversized cream arm chair and ottoman to start her reading. The book about nature’s guide to your fertility was specific about the placement of furniture in her bedroom, but also in the dining room, and even right down to the entryway. It had some simple ideas such as adding a filter to the tap water. The book said that the toxins can lead to infertility. Then it got into weeding and gardening. It told her to plant aloe vera and cactus inside the home. It is supposed to release oxygen at night, making the room air become cleaner. The special thing to be considered about Aloe, is that it is supposed to absorb toxins in the room. Mrs. Johnson didn’t think much could hurt by rearranging furniture or gardening.

After 15 minutes in B-Bop’s line, Mr. Johnson ordered, paid, and they went on their way home.
“There are also some Homeopathic options that I was looking at,” she continued.
“Is that like witch doctor crap?” He asked.
“No, it is like taking vitamins, but these are natural remedies and herbs instead.”
“What are these supplements supposed to do?” He yelled the question over Toby Keith’s 'How Do You Like Me Now?! ' song that came on the radio.
“Well I didn’t get a chance to finish the introductory part of it yet, but they are supposed to promote fertility, increase libido, and improve reproductive health.”
“Alright. Well warn me before you start taking any of that gobbledygook,” he cautioned. Then it dawned on him, “oh shit! You want me to take this herb nonsense too, don 't you?”
“Yes, dear, cause you know there is a certain role that you play in making a baby,” she laughed.

Johnson ignored her husbands yells. She tore the fertility books she bought off the bookshelf and began flipping through it vigorously, searching in vain perhaps for more options. The fairytale book that she bought so long ago started sliding, tipped off the shelf, and landed on the floor, falling open to the story with the widow woman and her lizard child.
“What did that widow do again?” She wondered aloud. “Okay, it’s simple. The widow woman took soot from her hearth, wrote on a random piece of paper that she wanted a kid, and buried the soot with the note next to a lake. Well that sounds simple enough. I’ve tried everything else…”
Mrs. Johnson walked into their basement, where they had a wood burning stove, which they purchased with the intention of saving money on heat in the winter, but this time they might be doing more than that. She opened up the black metal door and scooped out some black charred remnants of the last fire burned within the unit and put it in a mason jar. She grabbed the nearest pen and paper, scribbled the words, ‘Please give me a child. I would do anything,’ and put that folded note in the jar as well.
Mr. Johnson yelled, “where are you going? Why aren’t you answering