Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Answer Might Surprise You)

Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You know, that moment when you lock eyes with your leafy roommate across the room and swear you see a flicker of…disapproval? Okay, maybe judgment is a strong word. But there’s something about the stoic silence of a houseplant that makes you question everything.

When My Fiddle Leaf Fig Sided With My Cat

It all started with Bartholomew, my notoriously dramatic fiddle leaf fig. He’s a real diva, that one. Requires filtered water, hates drafts, and throws a fit (read: drops leaves) if I so much as look at him the wrong way. One day, I was having a particularly rough go of it – deadlines looming, laundry overflowing, the works. As I’m frantically trying to make coffee, I trip over Mr. Whiskers (the cat, obviously) and spill grounds everywhere. Cue the dramatic sigh from Bartholomew as a single, perfect leaf detaches itself and floats to the ground. Mr. Whiskers, the little traitor, rubs against Bartholomew’s pot as if to say, “She’s a mess, right?”