We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a cheesy reality show, a half-eaten bag of chips precariously balanced on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: the judgment. From your houseplant.
Is My Houseplant Giving Me the Side-Eye?
It started subtly. I’d be rushing out the door, late for work, and catch a glimpse of my peace lily, Steve. (Don’t judge, I’m a firm believer in plants having dignified names.) It felt like he was… following me with his leaves.
“Another takeout container in the recycling?” Steve seemed to sigh. “You know, composting is really not that hard.”
Okay, maybe I was projecting. But the guilt was real.
My Houseplant Judged My DIY Skills – I Swear!
One particularly harried evening, I was attempting to assemble furniture using only a butter knife and sheer willpower (it was doomed from the start). I may have uttered a few choice words that would make a sailor blush. That’s when I saw it.
Steve’s leaves did a full-body shudder.
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