We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon you swore you’d never watch, and you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. It’s Beatrice, your usually placid peace lily, and she’s…judging you.
Okay, maybe not literally judging. But that subtle droop in her leaves? The way she seems to sigh when I forget to water her for the third day in a row? It all screams, “Honestly, Sharon, get it together.”
The Side-Eye: Are My Plants Judging Me?
It all started innocently enough. I bought Beatrice, a sprightly little spider plant, with the noble intention of brightening up my apartment and introducing some much-needed oxygen into my caffeine-fueled existence.
At first, things were great. We co-existed in blissful, leafy harmony. I watered her, she photosynthesized, we were both winning at this whole plant-ownership thing.
