Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (Spoiler: It Totally Is)
Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You know, that moment when you’re scarfing down cold pizza at 2 AM in your pajamas, and you glance over at your perfectly poised houseplant, bathed in the soft glow of your refrigerator light. And in that instant, you just know. It’s judging you.
Does My Fiddle Leaf Fig Think I’m a Bad Plant Parent?
My journey into the secretly judgmental world of houseplants began with Ferdinand, my majestic fiddle leaf fig. Now, Ferdinand is a drama queen. He needs more humidity than a tropical rainforest and throws a tantrum (read: drops leaves) if he doesn’t get it. One day, my mom was visiting and witnessed me, in all my sleep-deprived glory, forgetting to mist Ferdinand.
“He needs his humidity, honey,” she said, with a knowing glance at Ferdinand, who I swear, subtly swayed a leaf in agreement.
From that day forward, I was convinced Ferdinand had become my mom’s informant, silently reporting back on my plant-parenting skills (or lack thereof).
