An inventive fellow of about ten has a couple of problems: he wets his bed, and his parents are abusive and disgusting. In a supernumerary office, he finds a bag of seeds, which he plants in soil that he's placed in the middle of a celibate bed. The seed sprouts and grows into a grandmother, who's loving and approving. Life with his parents and with his imagination continues. Is a smiling grandmother enough to irritate him through?