Disappointment

Disappointments. We've all had them.

It may surprise you that I, myself have often been disappointed. Yes, I know my life seems to be a fairytale of blissful runs, perfect children (how could anything less than perfect come from this body?!), sugary confections and generally floating along from day to day on a rainbow created by a unicorn fart. But the reality is such a long way from this delusion that I like to have everyone believe. So I'm going to share a few of my disappointments - just so you can all feel better about your own.

I never got a pony when I was growing up. Unless you count the black ceramic horse that lost its leg during an unfortunate dusting incident and had to be put down. Note to all parents out there - if you give your horse-crazy daughter a ceramic horse she will probably be able to tell that it's not a real one. 

Then there was the disappointment when I was about eight when the person that I'd flung my arms around turned out not to be my favourite aunt but a stranger. That one's very memorable because of the good dose of embarrassment mingled with the disappointment.

I was incredibly disappointed the time that I noticed, halfway through eating it, that my cracker was full of weevils. And then I was incredibly nauseated. For the rest of the afternoon.

And I'm constantly disappointed that I wasn't blessed with a furnace-like metabolism. And that running a lot doesn't mean that you can eat a lot. And that chocolate isn't a low calorie, fat-burning super food.

But I would say my biggest disappointment ever came a few days ago.

It was the end of a long day at the end of yet another long week and I was enjoying a little down time in my pyjamas in front of the television with a cup of tea and a piece of rocky road. Okay, it was more like a slab of rocky road - don't judge!

At this point I need to explain a couple of things. 

First - I basically wear shorts and a singlet to bed. The singlet has a bra shelf in it - for comfort and modesty (in the past we have had young men drop around at all hours of the night so it pays to be prepared) and so things don't get too tangled up when I'm asleep.

Second - I'm not talking about any old rocky road. I'm talking about rocky road that's been custom made to please my palate. Yes it's basically chocolate and marshmallows and nuts but the chocolate is Toblerone and there's two types of nuts (toasted, slivered almonds and toasted pecans). And then there's the other mix-ins - chopped clinkers, marella jubes and, the piece de resistance, peanut M&Ms. 

So I'm lying on the chaise enjoying watching Biggest Loser with a hot cup of tea while savouring my little bit of heaven and trying to beat Toby to the crumbs that fall onto the couch. I'm relaxed and content. All's right with the world even if it's just for this moment. 

The program ended so I got up, put my dirty cup in the kitchen, sent Bubbles out for her last wee of the day (Toby either spends his days dehydrated or has an enormous bladder - either way he never needs to go) and I went to brush my teeth. Teeth-brushing done, I just glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror and noticed what appeared to be a lump - a weird deformity of my left breast.

Upon closer inspection this weird lump turned out not to be a tumour but a rather large piece of rocky road complete with nuts and marshmallows. Heaven knows how Toby missed this bit because he watches me eat like a hawk and pounces on any fallen food instantly. 

So where does disappointment come into this story? I had brushed my teeth!!!! 

I've heard that your character can be measured by how you handle disappointments. I'd like to think I handled this one with good deal of class and grace. I popped that piece of rocky road out of my bra shelf and into my mouth. Then I rinsed my mouth and went to bed. 

Please don't tell my dentist.