We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch in your oldest sweatpants, two days past a hair wash, demolishing a bag of chips. You glance up, and suddenly your gaze meets the unwavering stare of… your houseplant.
The Day My Fiddle Leaf Fig Sided With My Mother
It all started innocently enough. I, like many during the dark days of 2020, decided to become a “plant parent.” I envisioned a jungle oasis, filled with vibrant life and Instagram-worthy foliage. I brought home Ferdinand, a majestic fiddle leaf fig, with dreams of us becoming the envy of the plant community.
Ferdinand, however, had other plans. He shed leaves with the drama of a soap opera star, his once-proud posture drooping lower with each passing day. My mother, a seasoned plant whisperer, visited one afternoon and immediately diagnosed the problem: my utter incompetence.
The Passive-Aggressive Disapproval of My Cactus
Ferdinand wasn’t the only plant who seemed to disapprove of my lifestyle choices. Take Cedric, my prickly pear cactus. Now, you’d think a plant that thrives in harsh, unforgiving deserts wouldn’t be so quick to judge. You’d be wrong.
Cedric’s disapproval manifested in a more passive-aggressive manner. I’d forget to water him for weeks – weeks! – and he wouldn’t bat a spiny eyelid. But the moment I dared to indulge in a slice of cheesecake? He’d sprout a new, menacing spike, pointed directly at me like a tiny, accusing finger.