Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me
The Side Eye from a Ficus
Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon, a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: that look. You know the one— a mixture of disappointment and disdain— from your houseplant. Okay, maybe I’m projecting, but hear me out. My ficus, Ferdinand, has been throwing some serious shade my way lately, and I’m convinced it’s because he secretly judges my life choices.
Exhibit B: The Curious Incident of the Takeout Containers
I’ll admit, I have a weakness for takeout. Pad thai on Tuesday? Why not! Sushi on Friday? Obviously! But apparently, Ferdinand finds my culinary choices appalling. I can practically hear him tut-tutting as I unpack yet another styrofoam container, his leaves rustling in disapproval. “Honestly,” he seems to murmur, “a salad wouldn’t kill you.”
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