The Side-Eye from a Fiddle Leaf Fig
It all started innocently enough. I, like many quarantined millennials, decided to invite a little green friend into my home. I envisioned a peaceful haven filled with lush foliage, the air thick with the scent of fresh chlorophyll. What I got was Percy, a deceptively charming fiddle leaf fig who, I swear, spends most of his days silently judging my life choices.
But the real turning point came during The Watering Incident of ’22. I’d had a particularly rough day—deadlines, traffic jams, you name it. I stumbled home, emotionally drained, and completely forgot about poor Percy. It wasn’t until the next morning, as I was drowning my sorrows in coffee, that I noticed him. His leaves, once proud and vibrant, were slumped over like a disappointed parent at a school play.
And then it hit me. That wasn’t just any droop. That was judgment. Pure, unadulterated, “I can’t believe you forgot to water me, you irresponsible human” judgment.
Is My Houseplant Judging My Interior Design Skills Too?
Since then, I’ve noticed it everywhere. Leaving dishes in the sink? Percy lets out a dramatic sigh (or at least, I imagine he does). Binge-watching reality TV instead of hitting the gym? His leaves seem to quiver in disapproval.
Just last week, I was rearranging some furniture and couldn’t decide where to hang a new picture frame. After several agonizing minutes, I finally settled on a spot. As I stepped back to admire my handiwork, I swear I heard a quiet “tsk” from Percy’s direction. Sure enough, when I turned around, his pot was ever-so-slightly turned away from the newly hung frame, as if to say, “Honestly, your interior design skills leave much to be desired.”
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