We’ve all been there. You know, that moment when you’re scarfing down leftover takeout straight from the container, shamelessly binge-watching reality TV in your pajamas, and you suddenly lock eyes with… your houseplant.
And in that split second, you just know. It’s judging you. Silently, but oh-so-critically.
Did My Philodendron Just Side With My Mother?
It all started innocently enough. I, like many pandemic converts, became a proud plant parent to a majestic Philodendron named Phil. He was (and technically still is) thriving. Lush, green, new growth exploding everywhere. A picture of plant parenthood success.
Then came my mother’s visit.
Now, my mother possesses a green thumb that can only be described as supernatural. Gardens flourish under her care, orchids bloom on command, and even the scraggliest supermarket basil transforms into an Italian herb garden oasis.
The worst part? Phil seemed to agree with her. I swear, he perked up the second she entered the room, his leaves practically vibrating with newfound vigor after a single watering from her magical watering can.
Is My Houseplant’s Droopiness a Sign of Disapproval?
Since then, I’ve noticed a pattern. Phil’s mood (or should I say, leaf turgidity?) seems to be directly correlated to my life choices.
- Late night of questionable decisions fueled by questionable pizza? Droopy leaves in the morning.
- Successfully met a deadline, worked out, and ate a vegetable? Phil’s practically doing the Macarena with those new growth points.
It’s gotten to the point where I’m convinced he’s developed a complex system of nonverbal communication. A slight wilt here, a yellowing leaf there – it’s all a passive-aggressive commentary on my less-than-stellar life choices.