Originally written 3/14/11.
In August, my dear friend Annalisse gave me a seedling tomato plant in a plastic shot glass. I promised to care for and love it like my own child. I took it home, watered it, petted and loved on it and put it in the sun.
The next day I put the mail on top of it and forgot it for a week. It was the beginning of a long and rocky relationship.
Over the next few months, I would go weeks without watering it and when its leaves began to fall off I would profusely apologize and profess my undying love for it while watering it. It began to grow. I moved it from a shot glass to a larger plastic cup, and it continued to grow.
Then, the wicked winter came and the sunlight stopped being so bright and cheery all the time. It snowed quite a bit and got cold by the window. My beloved tomato plant began dying again, but I vowed that I would care for it to my dying breath and purchased a plant light and moved it into our office space. It began to grow once more, albeit it was always suspiciously greener on the top leaves than the bottom leaves, so I moved it once more into a legitimate planter.
In the weeks that I remembered to water it, it continued to grow and grow. Now spring is arriving, and sunlight has once again began really streaming into our home, so I decided to place my beloved tomato plant outside so it, too, could appreciate the wonderful sunshine. I thought it would love the real sunlight dancing on its leaves and bringing life and joy into its little plant cells.
Well, as it turns out that tomato plants are warm weather plants. And “spring” in Utah means that it’s still high forties, low fifties on good days.
Kyle walked into the house today, took one look at my tomato plant and said, “I think you’ve really killed it this time. It’s going to die.”
*The title of this blog is inspired by a story my sister once told me about a couple. The boy bought his girlfriend a potted plant, which she decided was an allegory for their relationship; if the plant died, it would doom their relationship. It died. (But they ended up working out after all.)
 Kyle wanted to keep the shot glass and do soda pop shots with it. I ended up forgetting that he wanted it and later smashed it.
 Ok so maybe I didn’t quite say that.
 This is when the shot glass got smashed.
 Or its dying breath, you know, whichever comes first.
 Which were yellow and dying…shhh…
 On bad days it snows.