If looks could kill

There’s nothing quite as devastating to my self-esteem as a disapproving look. You know what I’m talking about. That look you get when you know you’ve really disappointed someone, but instead of saying it, they give you the silent treatment, accompanied by that look.

It’s even worse when they turn around and walk away shaking their head. That hurts.

At those times it is best to say nothing. No words can cure disappointment.

I got quite a few last week. Some I may have deserved but, for the most part, I was actually the innocent victim of circumstances beyond my control.

Forgetting to buy cat food was definitely my fault and mine alone. Returning home from a quick round of emergency shopping, I realised that I had forgotten the most important item on the list when all four of my babies watched me unpack the groceries. The anticipation was electric.

Their utter disappointment manifested in that look when the last bag was emptied of its content and there still was no sign of their favourite snack.

I could see what they were thinking: “Good thing we live in the 21st century. If we were back in the Stone Age, we’d starve if he was responsible for the hunt.”

Literally just a few hours later, as I tried to fill the cats’ water bowls, the taps ran dry. I had forgotten to top up the pre-paid water. Yes, again I got that look. But this time there was an element of “how pathetic” thrown in.

“How did he survive past puberty!”

Before I could offer even the weakest of retorts, they walked away, heads shaking.

Strike three was when the power went off. In the middle of a movie.

With the flick of a switch, our castle went from cosy and warm to creepy and scary. Apparently, I’m not the knight in shining armour I thought I was. Running around in the dark in search of candles, I stepped on a tail and knocked over a tray of crockery. No sign of a candle or a match.

Fortunately, the one that wears the pants came to the rescue.

I believe it could have been a lot worse. At least I don’t work at Eskom.