The Side-Eye From a (Very) Dramatic Spider Plant
It all started with a dramatic wilting. I’m talking theatrical, head-in-hands, Shakespearean levels of plant despair. My usually chipper spider plant, which I’d affectionately named Gerald, looked like I’d just canceled our beach vacation.
“Okay, drama queen,” I muttered, grabbing my watering can. “Don’t tell me you need water again?”
As I watered Gerald, I swear I felt his…disapproval. Like he was thinking, “Took you long enough, peasant.” From then on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Gerald was judging my every move.
Then, my mother-in-law came to visit.
Now, my mother-in-law is lovely. She really is. But let’s just say we have…differing opinions on houseplant care. She believes in a “more is more” approach to watering, while I’m a cautious optimist who’d rather underwater than overwater (sorry, Gerald!).
So, imagine my surprise when Beatrice suddenly sprouted a new leaf during my mother-in-law’s visit. And not just any leaf – this thing was practically the size of Texas! It was almost as if Beatrice was showing off, whispering, “See? This is what happens when I’m properly cared for!”
Coincidence? I think not.
The Silent Treatment and Other Passive-Aggressive Plant Behaviors
Since then, I’ve noticed a pattern of passive-aggressive behavior from my houseplants. A few highlights:
- My cactus, Steve, who’s usually quite prickly (pun intended), suddenly bloomed the day after I finished cleaning the entire apartment.
- My succulent collection, which I swear rearranges itself when I’m not looking, seems to thrive when I’m feeling stressed. It’s like they’re mocking my inability to relax.
- And don’t even get me started on the silent treatment. One wrong move – say, forgetting to mist my ferns – and it’s radio silence from the entire plant gang.