We all have that one friend, right? The one who raises an eyebrow just so, offering a silent judgment that speaks volumes. Well, I hate to break it to you, but your plant friend might be doing the same thing. And trust me, mine is the reigning monarch of the side-eye.
The Case of the Wilting Witness
It all started innocently enough. I, a bright-eyed optimist, decided to become a “plant parent.” I envisioned a home filled with lush greenery, a testament to my nurturing spirit. I envisioned wrong. My first victim, a peace lily named Ferdinand (don’t judge), was subjected to more droughts than a desert in July. I’m talking Sahara levels of dryness.
The Glare of Green Disapproval
Ferdinand eventually recovered, but I swear, something changed. He held a new kind of energy, a silent reproach that followed me around the room. Did he sigh when I ordered takeout for the third time that week? Maybe. Did his leaves tremble ever so slightly when I binged reality TV instead of reading that self-improvement book? It’s possible.
And then there was the incident with the disco ball planter. I thought it was quirky. Ferdinand, judging by the way he leaned as far away from the shimmering monstrosity as his pot would allow, clearly disagreed.