Who’s Been Eating My Borage?

Once upon a time, Brownilocks (AKA Mama) planted some Borage seedlings.  Day after day, Browni checked her little peat pots, until one day the Borage started sprouting: 

After many days, Browni knew it was time for her little Borage seedlings to move from the sheltered porch to the elements of our backyard.  Everyday, she helped them prepare themselves for their big move.  One day, she was able to put them into bigger pots of their own.

Happy as clams to be outside, they started to spread their fuzzy little leaf-arms wide open in an attempt to hug the sun.  Little by little, they began to reach the top of their pots.

Not too big, and not too small, it seems they were just right.

But “just right” for whom, you might ask?  That was Brownilocks’s question, too, the day that she found some chewed up leaves in the Borage pot:

“Have you been eating my Borage?”  Browni asked. 

Because we know better, Lam and I both said no.  For him it was too small, and for me it was too fuzzy.  For Mama–I mean, Browni–it was too cucumber-y.

And so, we all turned to Baby Bare:

Without hesitation, he declared that the Baby Borage was “just right” for a Baby Bare’s palate.  

And so, Mama moved the Borage to a more protective place, where it has resumed its quest to hug the sun.  One day, it will grow taller and will start to sport pretty blue flowers, at which point it will also start to get too prickly for Bare to chomp on.

Until that day, may we all live happily ever after.  


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