Unpopular and long forgotten fairy tales

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, there lived a plant named Rapunzel. She lived in the living room in a gorgeous, high-ceilinged, expensive apartment in the downtown west-end. There was lots of sun, and lots of water, and her beautiful tendriled and leafed hair hung down seven feet to the floor.

Hence her name. 

That was four moves ago, alas, and Rapunzel was then moved to a small house on the east side, where she grew well but there was less sun; to another apartment in Mount Pleasant where her care was sporadic; and to another apartment in Kitsilano where water wasn't terribly plentiful. She never regained her former glory, alas, but she had the tenacity of plant life that has been on this earth longer than any mammal, and she fought valiantly for her life.

Until the final move. The one when there was a baby, and three cats, and unfinished renovations, and poor Rapunzel was left outside. She had always been an indoor plant, and when she was remembered after an entire west-coast winter outside, it was thought that her number was up.

Earlier this summer it was noticed that her tendrils once again were poking above the soil, and she was picked up, rescued from weedy interlopers, and put into a position of pride amongst the herbs. It was thought that the ready sun and ready water might restore her to some measure of life. 

The plan has been working, my friends. Her hair is oh-so-short, mere six inches from the soil as of yet, but she is looking green and hale and we are rejoicing for this yet another miracle return from the dead. We are delighted that the only plant in our possession for years hasn't been killed off; perhaps we ARE good parents after all.

Earlier this evening, The Man and The Boy stood in the back patio, watering the herbs. And The Man took it upon himself to tell The Boy the story of Rapunzel, both her own story and her namesake. It was a long and complex process, during which The Boy listened raptly, nodding, and taking in the story. The story of Rapunzel is, after all, a thrilled tale, with glorious victories and harrowing near death experiences. 

And then ... 

"Daddy? What's the story of mint?"