We all know that plants can brighten a room, purify the air, and maybe even teach us a thing or two about patience. But what if they’re also secret judges of our life choices? What if they’re silently critiquing our every move with a subtle droop of a leaf or a jauntily angled stem?
My Fiddle Leaf Fig Threw Shade (Literally)
My suspicions began with Ferdinand, my majestic fiddle leaf fig. Ferdinand is a notoriously dramatic plant, known for shedding leaves at the slightest provocation—a cold draft, a missed watering, a slightly off-key rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” in the shower. But recently, his dramatics seemed…pointed.
One particularly stressful week, after a series of questionable dating app decisions and a near-meltdown over a burnt casserole, I noticed Ferdinand looking particularly forlorn. His leaves drooped lower than usual, and he seemed to be leaning away from me, as if in silent judgment of my life choices. It was then I realized: Ferdinand wasn’t just thirsty, he was disappointed.
Ferdinand isn’t the only plant in my apartment with a seemingly judgmental streak. My peace lily, Petunia, is a master of passive-aggressive communication. Forget to water her for a day? She dramatically wilts like she’s about to stage a fainting couch performance. But the moment you so much as glance at a watering can, she perks right back up, as if to say, “Oh, NOW you notice me?”
And then there’s the curious case of her blooms. Peace lilies are supposed to bloom regularly, right? Well, Petunia seems to have a sixth sense for when my life is in utter chaos. Big deadline at work? Petunia’s blossoms shrivel faster than you can say “performance review.” Awkward first date that ends in a disastrous attempt to parallel park? Say goodbye to those delicate white flowers. But the moment things start to look up – say, I win a free latte at my local coffee shop or successfully navigate Ikea without an existential crisis – Petunia rewards me with a glorious new bloom, as if to say, “See? You CAN have nice things.”