When to talk to your quarantine sour dough starter about it’s abandonment issues.

I’ll admit; I was scared to open the Tupperware. It had been months since I had. Back in March of 2020, a simpler time; I dutifully fed my little sour buddy every single day. It seemed the right thing to do seeing as years of city life had left me childless, with at least one roommate suffering dog and cat allergies and a severe longing to create. What else was I gonna do? Learn how to weld?

Feeding a sourdough starter becomes a co dependent task. It’s size increases and eventually yours does too. Sourdough bread, biscuits, pancakes, pot pies, and more all lead your midsection to grow along with your yeasty pal.

As the pandemic seemed to slow and reopening seemed imminent I knew my carb intake had to slow down. I barely fit in my sweatpants and I wasn’t going to just throw out 6 pairs of jeans.

So I just stopped. In the beginning I’d take a quick look to see how he was but I just couldn’t keep up the sham. The little guy was hungry and bubbling. I’d move him around the kitchen making room for new appliances or needing room for a crudite board. I’d even take a look from time to time to check in but I was just not ready for the responsibility. Besides I was back at the office like 2 whole days a week by this point. I hadn’t realized it had gotten so bad until my aforementioned pet allergy riddled roommate walked by the bowl. I heard a full throated gurgle and then a blood curdling scream.

I walked in the kitchen and the starter had leapt free of his boundaries and was sucking the skin right from poor Kevin’s bones. I neglected my baby and now he was a flesh eating monster! I never felt more guilty for the resentment I levied on my mother for being a latch key kid.

At that moment it jumped from Kevin’s face and made its way towards me. I stood frozen in fear as it rose up from the ground and neared my face. Serious Sigourney Weaver in Alien vibes. As it got close to my face a melancholy burbling voice whispered “Why father?”

I Immediately broke down in tears. I knew what I had done. We sat at the kitchen table over tea. I was direct and apologetic. I told the boy I simply jumped into the commitment young. It felt like I had to do it. All of my friends were posting Instagram pictures with their fresh baked sourdough loaves and I felt a societal pressure. I was young and not ready to give up bottomless brunches with toasts I didn’t have to sear or spread myself. In short I was selfish. I took full responsibility for our shattered relationship and said I hoped we could try to still be close going forward.

He seemed to understand. We talk most Sundays and I can’t wait to meet his new girlfriend on Christmas. I only wish I had reached out before the incident. Maybe then poor Kevin would still be alive. Then again, if Kevin was still alive I wouldn’t have a sweet new pit bull rescue puppy to help me bag chicks. The Peloton me and my other 2 roommates chipped in on would still be cluttering the living room instead of being in his room, It’s only lightly used if anyone’s interested please make an offer, and I’d have to make at least one vegan dish for the holidays.