Dear Kid,
Once again, the “grow your own lettuce indoors” thing is parading around the internet.
This time, I decided to participate.
I’m not sure what makes me think (time and time again) that I can replicate what I see on My Friend the Internet. I’ve been fooled, bamboozled, and let down more than once.
Sadly, this time was no exception.
I followed the instructions:
Take the heart of lettuce you buy at the grocery store. Check. Lettuce. Got it.
Cut the lettuce about 2 inches above the bottom of the stem. Cut. No problem.
Put the stem in a few inches of water and place in sunlight. Okey dokey. Lettuce-toes submerged in water. Lovely little bowls placed in a nice warm, sunny spot.
Wait. I can wait. I’ll even eat the lettuce I cut. Waiting. More waiting.
Change the water every few days. Can do. Did do. Have done. Still waiting.
Harvest the lovely, lush bunch of lettuce. Um, not really. Lush is definitely not the word I’d use here. Charlie Brown lettuce is more like it.
Dad is refraining from laughing (which is even better for his health than eating lettuce). He is gently suggesting that it might be time to compost the lettuce remnants and clean the lovely little dishes…
Love, Mom
P.S. We tasted the dish-grown lettuce before composting. It was probably the most bitter green thing we’ve ever eaten. Experiment Fail.
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