From Serial Plant Killer to Proud Plant Parent: My Story
Let’s be honest, I used to be a walking disaster zone for anything green and leafy. I’m talking Sahara Desert levels of plant homicide. My succulents looked like deflated balloons, my herbs wilted faster than my dating life, and don’t even get me started on that poor, neglected peace lily (RIP, Lily. You deserved better).
But then, something magical happened. Maybe it was a cosmic shift, maybe it was just sheer boredom during lockdown, but I decided to give this whole “plant parent” thing another go. And let me tell you, folks, it’s been a wild, hilarious, and surprisingly fulfilling ride.
Unexpected Joy of Plant Parenthood #1: Plants Are the Best Roommates
Forget messy roommates who steal your food and leave passive-aggressive notes on the fridge. Plants are the epitome of low-maintenance living. They won’t judge your questionable dance moves, they don’t care if you haven’t showered in three days, and they’ll happily soak up your angsty poetry slams (as long as you water them occasionally).
