Posted in Personal Essay

Is My Houseplant Judging Me? A Deep Dive into the Psyche of a Philodendron

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The Side-Eye Started Subtly

It began innocently enough. I mean, as innocent as owning 17 houseplants can be. I was watering Gerald (yes, my philodendron is named Gerald, don’t judge me), when I noticed it. A slight tilt of his largest leaf. A subtle shift, as if angling away from the pile of laundry I hadn’t put away. Was I imagining things? Was the breeze from the window to blame?

Gerald‘s silent pronouncements grew bolder. For every late-night pizza box left on the coffee table, there seemed to be a new, drooping leaf. Every time I belted out a questionable 90’s pop song (in the shower, I swear!), another leaf would turn away, shielding its metaphorical eyes from my tone-deaf caterwauling.

Exhibit A: The Case of the Neglected Watering Can

One particularly humid Tuesday, I realized with a jolt that I had forgotten to water Gerald. I rushed over, filled his watering can, and… nothing. Not a single drop came out. Clogged again!

As I struggled to dislodge the mineral build-up, I could swear I felt a distinctly smug aura emanating from Gerald. The message was clear: “You can’t even keep my water source clear? Amateur.”

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