Eating Shorty

We bought a basil seedling in the Fall, and it grew and grew.  I watered it whenever it's dish ran dry.  I moved it from window to window throughout the day, chasing the sunshine.  The kids, not surprisingly, became very attached to it.  They named it Shorty.

We found babysitters for Shorty while we were away.  It's minty aroma filled the house on a breezy day.  Every now and then we would take a few leaves from it, to brighten our dinner just a bit.

And then Shorty started to die.  His leaves began to yellow and curl.  The Internet said he needed new soil, something about his PH balance.   I have no time for hunting down potting soil in this huge city that is organized about as well as my Tupperware drawer.  Not to mention, we're leaving for America in May and then moving to a new part of this country.

It was time to eat Shorty.

So, yesterday, the kids said goodbye.  Each of them had their moment with their pet plant.  It was a tearful and hilarious process.

She doesn't much care.

He's a hugger.

 And the sentimental kid.

Oh my.

Daniel and I didn't shed a single tear, except for tears of happiness as we enjoyed the red Thai curry that Shorty became.

Mmmmmmmm.