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15 November 2014

Disappointment - a short story

As business owners, we both work long hours in stressful jobs so a long weekend away with friends - also business owners in stressful jobs - was a lovely break. My overwhelming reaction on our return home was... Disappointment.

It was (almost) entirely my own fault - relaxing over the weekend must have softened my brain. We had left our teenage son, who was home from uni on a gap year, to fend for himself and we looked forward to seeing him. We had texted ahead and arrived home after a 7-hour drive via shopping at the supermarket, ready to make dinner.

We carried in our suitcases and shopping bags with no assistance from our loving son, who remained seated on the sofa, ignoring us. I wasn't disappointed just yet - this is normal behaviour that we are somehow resigned to. A dinner plate was by his side and we assumed that he had already eaten as we put away the shopping and prepared to cook just for ourselves rather than the family dinner that we had planned.

Meanwhile, my eyes had taken in the crumbs next to the sofa, the two dozen DVD/PS4 cases spread on the floor and a spilled pile of clean washing that I asked him to take up to his room before the weekend. Before I could hug my darling son, I expressed my disappointment and walked into the kitchen where I was met with a floor covered with all manner of foodstuffs - raisins, flour, toast crumbs, onion and garlic skin, dry spaghetti, carrot peelings (yes, I should have been pleased that he had eaten vegetables...)

I swept the floor whilst grumbling sarcastically in a low voice because I didn't want to walk in and immediately start an argument. I cleared the sink and filled the dishwasher. My husband cleaned the worktops and we cooked a quick meal. Setting the table, I was greeted by food spillage from a previous meal (or meals) glued to the place mat and table surface.

As we sat down to eat, our son informed us that he hadn't eaten - the plate was from his previous meal. Feeling guilty at the misunderstanding, I signaled to him to remove his headphones so that I could ask him if he'd like pizza (his favourite) which we'd brought home as a treat. Before I could ask, he announced that he would not be talking to me because I was mean to him.

No pizza, then.

Great homecoming/reunion, not! It wasn't until this morning that I looked in the shower room to find five wet bath towels (yes, yes, I should be pleased that he showered!!!)...