Despite incredible environmental odds, our little buds have made an appearance into our home, and are becoming a minor obsession.
“Have you watered the plants today?”
“Yes, of course!”
“I might have watered them again. They looked hungry.”
“Are they getting any sun?”
“Does the TV set count?”
“I don’t know, some form of light?”
“Have you spoken to them today?”
“I played them Mozart.”
“Mozart is for babies, not plants.”
“What’s for plants?”
… Excessively. I’ve pre-booked a psychologist for their future developed zucchini and spinach-selves to deal with the neuroses caused by their smothering parents.
Also, due to the auspicious start of our buds, I have become predictably cocky about the color of my thumbs. And have therefore jumped the proverbial gun and planted cherry tomatoes, as of this evening. I am clearly doomed for a smack-down.