The Side-Eye That Started It All
It all started with a side-eye. Yes, you read that right. My monstera, lovingly dubbed Monty, shot me a look that could only be described as judgmental.
I was sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a true crime documentary marathon, a half-eaten bag of chips precariously balanced on my stomach. As I reached for my fourth glass of wine (don’t judge, it was a Tuesday), our eyes met. Monty‘s single, unblinking eye seemed to narrow. Okay, maybe I was projecting. But in that moment, I swear I saw a flicker of disapproval in those deep green leaves.
As I straightened up, I could’ve sworn I heard a dramatic sigh. And was that… a rustle of leaves that sounded suspiciously like a scoff? Look, I know plants don’t *actually* sigh or scoff, but the evidence was mounting. Monty was judging my forgetfulness, and frankly, who could blame him?
My Disastrous Dating Life: Exhibit C
The final straw, the piece de resistance, the evidence that cemented my theory, came during a particularly disastrous Zoom date.
Picture this: I’m on my third glass of wine (again, don’t judge!), trying to make charming conversation with a man whose profile picture must have been at least a decade old. He’s monologuing about his stamp collection, and I’m desperately trying to signal Monty for an emergency rescue.
Suddenly, the man stops mid-sentence and squints at the screen. “Is that… is that plant judging me?” he asks.
My jaw drops. I glance over at Monty, who is, I kid you not, subtly shaking a leaf back and forth as if to say, “You have no idea.”