Because 2 days is never enough.

When I left for my vacation in Seattle, I begged Karl to water my tomato plant with love. You see, it had finally starting growing little flowers and I felt so close to realizing my summer time dream of actually growing a tomato. The plant had survived my well documented bad plant mothering skills, a lengthy period in a planter far too small for it, and a traumatizing attack by our friend Tyler who, for inexplicable reasons though it was cilantro.

A week and a half later, I returned to my dear tomato project. Yes, we grow herbs and tomatoes in our bathroom…besides being the sunniest spot in the house with the most extra space, it gives me something to do while I brush my teeth and pee. And there they were, my little beauties. Little is the operative word. For now.

I love them. I love them so much I could literally sit there and watch them grow.

It’s late in the season and I’m concerned that I won’t ever get to eat a shiny red bathroom tomato on my salad. Matt suggested that I cut back all but one or two of them so that plant can concentrate on squeaking out a prize for me. But… KILL my babies (there are now 6 of them)??? What kind of monster would suggest that?

I did pull off a flower this morning. And I still feel kind of crappy about it.

UPDATE:

They’re getting biiiigger! I only hope I love my own children this much (and I hope I don’t dream of one day eating my own children with a little mozzarella and basil!)