From Beloved Houseplant to Green-Eyed Monster?
Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You know, that moment when you’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a cheesy reality show, and you catch a glimpse of your houseplant. It’s just sitting there, basking in the sunlight streaming through the window, leaves perfectly poised. But then it hits you – that subtle droop in its stem, the way its leaves seem to be angled just so… it’s almost as if it’s judging you.
Okay, maybe I’m being a tad dramatic (what can I say, quarantine has made me a tad paranoid). But I can’t shake the feeling that my beloved Philodendron, Phil for short, is silently critiquing my every move. And let me tell you, Phil has seen some things.
At first, I didn’t notice anything different. But then, as I was digging through the fridge for a stray grape (don’t judge), I caught Phil‘s reflection in the stainless steel. And I swear, he was giving me the side-eye. You know the one – that subtle tilt of the head that says, “Really? This is your life now?”
I tried to reason with him (yes, I talk to my plants, don’t you?). “Phil, buddy,” I pleaded, “it’s just a temporary setback. I’ll have you know I’m a master chef when I actually try.” But he remained unconvinced. From that day forward, I could sense his judgment every time I reached for the takeout menus.
Exhibit B: The Case of the Forgotten Watering Schedule
Look, I try my best. I really do. But sometimes life gets in the way, and remembering to water my plant falls to the bottom of my to-do list, somewhere between “do laundry” and “figure out the meaning of life.”
One particularly dry spell, I noticed Phil’s leaves were starting to resemble potato chips. Panic set in. I quickly grabbed my watering can and gave him a good soak, muttering apologies under my breath. As the water cascaded down his leaves, I could have sworn I heard a heavy sigh.
“Dramatic much?” I asked, feeling a bit defensive. But deep down, I knew he was right. I had failed him as a plant parent.