Water plants.

Water plants.

My father-in-law and his wife asked if we would keep their plants when they moved to another, hotter, state last month. I warned them that, no doubt about it, they would be dead when they returned for them.

I was not joking even a little.

I cannot keep plants alive for the life of me. I either forget about them and they die or I worry about them to much and overcare for them and they die. I have killed bamboo before and that's pretty hard to do.

But, as most kids are, my children are fascinated by seeds and plants. I taught Taylor the process of photosynthesis (and the intellectual-sounding words that come along with it) when she was only two. So, conceding to their begging, I allowed them to pick out a seed packet at the store and we came home and planted them and placed them in the kichen windowsill. At the kids' persuasion, I even picked a packet for myself. We put them in color-coordinated cups so we would know whose was whose.

Over the past three days, two of the colored cups have begun to sprout beautifully.

One shows no sign of life. Any guess whose cup that is?