Little Miss Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?

Ella has been dying to plant a garden for months now. I have no idea where she came up with the idea, but every day this past winter she carried her little green garden shovel out back to dig in the dirt patch next to our patio. So far she's planted everything from loose pocket change to a handful of dry-roasted sunflower seeds she found in my pantry. She is NOT pleased with the results. But rather than explain to her that money doesn't actually grow in gardens (or on trees, for that matter), I decided that maybe it's time to try vegetables.

Now, don't worry - I know you're thinking that I don't have the time to keep up with a garden, and I totally agree. I'm not at all optimistic about this endeavor. Generally speaking, my house is where plants go to die, as many a green-thumbed family member can attest. I've killed virtually every un-killable plant out there without so much as lifting a finger. Or a watering can, as the case may be. (Although I won't take responsibility for the pansies - the bunnies got those.) But a garden seems so important to my sweet girl. Plus, it occurs to me that she might actually eat a vegetable or two if it comes from her own backyard.

Or not.

Regardless, after much deliberation and many, many, many hours spent in the Home Depot Landscaping department, Ella and I finally planted a real garden. As expected, my little girl got pretty into it. She took one look at my gardening hat and gloves, and raced off to find her own set of accessories:

(Something got lost in translation... Yes, that is a winter hat and gloves. And yes, it was HOT.)

But somehow - after several hours of burying an assortment of teeny, tiny little seeds that I may very well never see again - we got our vegetable garden planted. And watered. Ella was so excited. In fact, she couldn't wait to get home from school the next day.

"Mommy, Mommy, I want to go see my garden! Can I? Can I?!?"

We walked to the backyard to gaze out over the little plot of land which, to my untrained eye, looked fine. Ella disagreed. She put a hand on her hip, shook her little head, and sighed.

"It doesn't look good, Mom."

"Oh Sweetie! Sure it does! It's going to take some time, you know, but pretty soon we're going to have lots of yummy tomatoes and zucchini and green beans to eat." We just have to remember to water them...

Ella sighed again and replied, in her most earnest tone, "I sure wish we could plant cookies instead."

That girl is a kid after my own heart. I bet you don't even have to water a cookie garden. Just a little milk now and then, and you've got yourself a bountiful harvest.

But no, we had to plant vegetables. And darned if I don't have to go water them. AGAIN.