Is My Houseplant Silently Judging Me? (The Evidence is Suspiciously Strong)
We all have our little quirks, right? Mine just happens to be an unshakeable belief that my houseplant, Ferdinand, is judging me.
It Started With a Droop…
It began subtly. I’d forgotten to water Ferdinand for a few days (okay, maybe a week), and when I finally remembered, his leaves were staging a dramatic reenactment of the Tower of Pisa. One look at his pathetically drooping foliage, and I swear I heard a heavy sigh. Okay, maybe not an actual sigh, but the judgment was palpable. It was as if he was saying, “Really, Sharon? Again?”
Naturally, I showered him with apologies, a generous amount of water, and maybe even a little serenade (don’t judge me!). To my relief, he perked up. But the seed of doubt had been planted. Was Ferdinand… judging my forgetfulness?
“Is this about the haircut?” I’d ask him, desperately sweeping up the leafy evidence. “Because I already feel bad enough!”
He’d just stand there, leaves rustling slightly in the breeze from the window I’d opened for dramatic effect. Silent judgment, thy name is Ferdinand.
The Time He Almost Exposed My Karaoke Night
Then there was the incident with the karaoke night. I’d invited some friends over, and let’s just say my rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” was more “tone-deaf disaster” than “rock legend.”
As I belted out the high notes (or at least, what I thought were high notes), I caught Ferdinand’s pot wobbling precariously on the shelf. It was almost as if he were trying to stage a dramatic escape, perhaps to spare himself the auditory assault. Or maybe he was going to drop himself on my head in a desperate attempt to silence me.
Either way, I swear I saw a look of pure mortification on his… well, wherever a plant’s face would be. It was at that moment I knew: Ferdinand had seen too much.