Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me
The Side-Eye from a Fiddle Leaf Fig
It started subtly. I was rearranging my living room furniture (again), trying to find that perfect Feng Shui flow I’d read about online, when I caught it. My fiddle leaf fig, Ferdinand, seemed to be…side-eyeing me. I know, I know, plants don’t *actually* have eyes (let alone opinions), but the way its leaves seemed to droop just a tad lower after I’d manhandled the armchair into its new position? Pure judgment, I tell ya.
Now, I’m not usually one to anthropomorphize my greenery. I don’t have full-blown conversations with my succulents or sing lullabies to my spider plant (okay, maybe sometimes). But there’s something about Ferdinand, with his broad, glossy leaves and stoic posture, that just screams, “I’ve seen things, Brenda. Questionable things.”
It’s not outright condemnation, mind you. More like a long-suffering sigh, a “Seriously, Brenda? Again?” kind of vibe. I imagine him rolling his metaphorical eyes (do plants have those?) as I confess my sins and promise to do better.
The Great Fertilizer Fiasco
If there’s one thing Ferdinand is passionate about (aside from photosynthesis, I presume), it’s his fertilizer schedule. This plant is a diva, let me tell you. He prefers a very specific brand of organic plant food, delivered at precise intervals. And heaven forbid I forget to dilute it properly. One time, in a moment of utter gardening negligence, I overdid it on the fertilizer. Let’s just say Ferdinand was not amused.
For weeks, he sulked. His leaves drooped dramatically, he refused to sprout new growth, and I swear he was shedding more than usual (do plants even *shed*?). It was like living with a disgruntled teenager who was deeply offended by your choice of music. I learned my lesson. Never mess with Ferdinand’s fertilizer.