Plants are a delightful way to bring some color and life into your house. And because you perform your secret at-home behaviors right in front of them, your plants have actually come to know you better than anyone else. Now your plants have seen enough, and they have some advice.

Money Tree

I’m forever grateful that you rescued me from that fluorescent-lighted IKEA prison, but I don’t appreciate that whenever you water me you give me a look like I’m letting you down. I might be a money tree, but I can’t make you actual money because I am a plant. I do have some financial advice, though. Delete UberEats from your phone and cook, for once. Get a coffee machine and stop going to Starbucks every morning—what is this, 2004? Also, stop buying plants. Your four-hundred-square-foot apartment already looks like a sad botanical garden.

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Umbrella Tree

Listen, I like you. You take good care of me. But, last night, as I watched you cry into a pile of warm laundry and then talk to your socks like old friends as you organized them in neat little rows, I wished I could introduce you to my old friend, cannabis. You guys might really get along.

Mother-in-Law’s Tongue

I’m the perfect house guest: low-maintenance, and I keep to myself. I’m also the hardest-working plant in this place—I convert poisonous substances in the air into oxygen! Every time you burn something on the stove, which is often, I make it so that the smoke doesn’t do irreparable harm to your soft body. How is it that a grown adult can’t successfully toast bread or boil an egg? Take a cooking class—it’s not like you have anything else going on. You might even meet someone! But fix your hair first. And stop picking at your chin while you watch “Survivor.” Those scars are for life and how is that show still on the air?

Maidenhair Fern

Yes, I am the plant of true love, but here’s a thought: you don’t find true love by dating human waste. I watch you swipe right on muscle-flexers, fish-killers, beard-braiders. If a man braids his beard, don’t date that man. You need to up your standards, by a lot.

Bamboo

Your friend Mike gave me to you “for luck” a few years ago. But really he was offloading me because I reminded him of his two-timing ex-girlfriend. So could you please stop rubbing me? That’s not how it works. Luck comes to those who cultivate it. For starters, listen to Oprah’s podcast, and maybe grow out your bangs?

Venus Flytrap

I love living here, because you make me laugh. And I’m glad you’re “exercising” to Cardi B, though I wish she could see you dancing around the living room in your grubby sweatpants. The only advice I have for you is: buy more fruit. (More fruit = more flies for me to eat, thanks.)

Pothos

Hey, there! I’m your easy, breezy pothos plant. I need very little light or attention to thrive. In fact, you can pretty much fully neglect me and I’ll just keep on living. I’m cool like that. Anyway, I noticed you’ve been screaming into your couch pillows more than usual and thought maybe I’d suggest transcendental meditation or something. I’m always here to talk, if you can’t afford an actual therapist.

Orchid

I’m going to be honest with you, sweetie. I’ve seen way too much of you, which is why I’m refusing to bloom, on principle. Yes, you feed me one ice cube once a week, but you’ve also exposed me to the many undignified views and scents of your bathroom. How dare you! You need to move me. And to switch to a more fibrous diet.