The Day I Realized My Plant Was Judging My Life Choices



The Day I Realized My Plant Was Judging My Life Choices

The Side-Eye From a Fiddle Leaf Fig

Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. That 3 p.m. slump hits, and the siren song of the cookie jar proves too strong to resist. As I shamelessly devoured my third (okay, fifth) cookie, I glanced up at my prized fiddle leaf fig, Ferdinand, and swore I saw a leaf tremble. Was it judgment? Disappointment? In that moment, I knew. Ferdinand was judging my life choices, one wilted leaf at a time.

Carl, was a master of passive-aggressive prickliness. Forget to water him for a week? He wouldn’t die dramatically; he’d just shed a few strategically placed spines, leaving a trail of tiny, prickly reminders of my negligence. The worst part? He always seemed to drop a spine right before my Tinder date arrived, leaving me to explain why my apartment looked like a porcupine had exploded.

“Oh, don’t mind Carl,” I’d say nonchalantly, scooping up the spiky evidence. “He’s just… shedding his winter coat.”

Carl, I’m sure, was laughing his thorny little head off.

The Silent Treatment from My Snake Plant

If Carl was the king of passive aggression, my snake plant, Susan, was the queen of the silent treatment. Unlike Ferdinand’s dramatic wilting or Carl’s prickly protests, Susan expressed her disapproval with stoic silence. Did I forget to repot her in the spring, like I promised? No growth spurt for me. Did I leave her in a dark corner while I binge-watched reality TV? Expect zero new shoots. Susan, I learned, was a firm believer in tough love, and her silence spoke volumes.