<p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/diary/3495705598/" title="IMG_0230 by R. S. M., on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0230" class="at-xid-6a00d8341db04e53ef01310fa39d2a970c" height="500" src="http://www.everydaytreats.com/wp-content/uploads/6a00d8341db04e53ef01310fa39d2a970c-pi.jpg" width="375" /></a></p><p>For some reason (probably one too many viewings of Max and Ruby) my son became obsessed with growing tomatoes from seed.</p><p>I&#39;m an avid <a href="http://diary.blogs.com/the_diary_of_a_reluctant_/2008/05/florimania.html">fake gardener</a>, but I&#39;ve never grown anything edible. So I bought some seeds (you know where t<a href="http://diary.blogs.com/the_diary_of_a_reluctant_/2008/06/zinnias.html">his is going</a>, don&#39;t you?) and because it was still chilly I tried to &quot;start&quot; them inside. </p><p>Almost a month later, we&#39;ve got nothing. But my son kept checking his seeds daily, waiting for a miracle. It was sad.</p><p>So I, being a benevolent mother, and a cheater, did what I like to think anyone else would do: I went to a nursery and bought a baby tomato plant, plopped it where a tomato seedling should be growing by now, and waited for my son to discover the miracle of germination.</p><p>(You&#39;d think I&#39;d be ashamed to admit this, but guess what? I&#39;m not!)</p><p>When my son checked his seeds and found a HUGE &quot;seedling&quot; sprouting out of nowhere he was not amused. He brought it over and demanded to know what this was.</p><p>&quot;A baby tomato plant!&quot; I said. I wasn&#39;t lying. That&#39;s EXACTLY what it is.</p><p>&quot;Why is it the only one that got big?&quot; He demanded, &quot;why is it so big?&quot;</p><p>I had no answer. So he wants nothing to do with the tomato plant. And neither do I. </p>
