In days of old — you know, back when I was a kid — learning about the magical plant called touch-me-not was something that happened with country kids at an early age. It was just part of my hunting, fishing, camping, and hiking upbringing.

The parent, or maybe an aunt, uncle or grandparent doing the introduction, would ask the child to touch one of the plant’s half-inch-long seed pods. The child would hesitantly touch the tiny bean-like pod and it would burst, shooting its seeds in all directions. What usually followed was a curious child eagerly searching for more pods to touch — so much for the plant’s name.