The Side-Eye from My Ficus: A Passive-Aggressive Plant Journey
It all started innocently enough. I, like many during the dark days of 2020, decided to become a “plant parent.” I envisioned a lush indoor jungle, a symphony of greenery that would reflect my newfound domesticity. I brought home a majestic Ficus, its leaves a vibrant emerald green, and placed it proudly in my living room. Little did I know, this was the beginning of a beautifully passive-aggressive relationship.
At first, things were great. I watered my Ficus diligently, even investing in a special plant mister for an extra touch of TLC. But then, the leaves started dropping. Not just a few, mind you, but a full-blown botanical massacre. I consulted countless online forums, convinced I was overwatering, underwatering, or perhaps subjecting my poor Ficus to a drafty window. But the leaf drop continued, always coinciding with moments of personal chaos in my life.
Did I forget to take out the trash for a week? Leaf drop. Did I order takeout three nights in a row? Leaf drop. Did I spend an entire Saturday in my pajamas watching reality TV? Leaf drop, leaf drop, LEAF DROP. It became clear that this was not just a plant; it was a walking, or rather, rooted, judgment machine.
Exhibit B: The Passive-Aggressive Growth Spurt
Determined to win back my Ficus’s approval, I doubled down on my plant-parenting duties. I researched the perfect fertilizer, repotted it into a larger pot (with drainage holes, of course!), and even started talking to it (don’t judge me!). And slowly, things started to improve. The leaf drop subsided, and new growth emerged. I was ecstatic! My efforts were finally being recognized!
But then, the growth took a turn. Instead of growing upwards, towards the light, as any respectable Ficus should, it started growing sideways. And not just any sideways, but directly towards my TV. It was as if my Ficus, in a passive-aggressive power move, was attempting to block my view of the latest season of “The Bachelor.” Coincidence? I think not.