Several weeks had passed since my daughter had returned home from school carrying a small pot of dirt. I fretted a great deal about this because me and the whole successful growing of plants thing…not so affective. Yet I had been diligent. The soil had been maintained at a pleasantly moist level; not too wet and not too dry. I was confident that I had done everything I could to make the mystery seed beneath sprout forth and reveal its glorious origins. But the damn thing still hadn’t grown.
My mother in law, who visits daily when she drops off the kids, got to witness the lack of progress and gave me a nice Easter gift to help me feel better:
“Here you go,” she said, “this one you can’t kill.” Thanks.
Despite all my efforts, I could not understand why I was failing. I had heard that people sometimes talk to their plants to help them grow, so in a moment of desperation I gave it a shot:
Dude, I know we have had like no sun lately and nothing but constant cloud cover and apocalyptic rain. I get it. I totally understand why you’re being so stubborn and staying down there where it’s dark and warm. What you need to grasp, is she is not going to stop asking me what is wrong with you until you suck it up and start showing us some green. She will continue to pick you up multiple times a day, every day to stare at you. She will pout and complain, whine and cry. She will make unfounded accusations that I am doing a crappy job, when you know full well I have been most attentive and have more than kept up my end of the bargain. So unless you want to wind up in the trash, and go on a nice long vacation courtesy of The Plant Fairy, I suggest you cooperate pronto.
Well I don’t know if it was our little talk or if the Whateverthehellitscalled plant normally takes three weeks to show itself, but we got green! Not just a little green either. It got so large I had to move it to another pot!
I was beginning to feel as though I had atoned for my sins against nature. Here was this beautiful thriving plant being kept alive by my sheer will to keep it that way. Certainly I had made up for all the plants I had allowed to wither and die in my previous anti-watering life. It would appear Nature, however, is not done with me.
Right after Easter Sofia came home with plant project number two. Supposedly it’s a carrot. A carrot? Seriously, what am I supposed to do with this thing? I am so not ready for vegetables. It’s been two weeks and progress is seemingly non existent:
Perhaps we need to have a talk?
At least this time, if I can believe my four year old, I know what kind of plant this is supposed to be. Are we status quo in terms of carrot germination? I have no idea, nor am I relishing the fact that I probably need to do some research (other than looking up the scientific term for carrot) and perhaps actually put it in the ground. One thing I do know: Mother Nature is holding steadfast that I have a long way to go before this black thumb is truly forgiven.