The Side-Eye That Started It All
I swear it started with a side-eye. Okay, maybe not a literal side-eye, because, you know, plants. But as I walked past my peace lily, Brenda (don’t judge, I name my plants), I could have sworn her leaves shifted ever so slightly, as if to follow my every move. And the look in those leaves? Pure judgment. I’m talking “you haven’t watered me in three weeks and you call yourself a plant parent?” judgment.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: this lady’s lost it. Plants can’t judge! And logically, I know you’re right. But there’s something about the silent scrutiny of a houseplant that just makes you question everything. It’s like they’re privy to all our messy, chaotic human lives, quietly observing from their terracotta pedestals.
As I rushed to revive her with a generous dose of H2O and a pep talk (don’t judge, we’ve all been there), I could practically hear Brenda’s thoughts: “Oh, NOW you decide to water me? After I almost succumbed to a dehydration-induced coma?” The silent judgment was palpable.
The Curious Case of the Brown Spots
Then there was the time mysterious brown spots started appearing on the leaves of my spider plant, Steve (told you, I name my plants). I consulted countless online forums, tried every remedy under the sun, but the spots persisted. It was like Steve was deliberately sabotaging my efforts, determined to expose me as a fraud of a plant parent.
“See,” the brown spots seemed to whisper, “you can’t even keep a simple spider plant alive. What makes you think you deserve the title of ‘plant mom’?”