Little Miss Grumpy Pants

I've had a grumpy couple of weeks, and while I thought things were getting a little bit better, I had an exceedingly grumpy night last night followed by a day full of small grumps.

Here is am embarassing example of something which grumped me to no end. Before I start, this embarassing story has a happy ending, and I've since 'let it go.' Bear with me as I share it, though, because eventually, in a round about sort of way, it ends up being important.

So! The shop has one big fat display window at the front, and this display window has an enormous work table (a nice one of course) which runs along the entire length of it. The plan is that every month we're going to change the items on the table - new cakes, new cupcakes, new toppers, new everything. And me being me, of course these displays are themed (generally by colour.) For whatever reason, I've chosen to make my displays change on or around the 15th of each month, which means we were not due to do this for another week or so. Last night I happened to be working late and I noticed two girls pointing and laughing at the window. The very same window which I LOVE, which features those jars, which is my pride and joy, and which literally makes my heart sing every time I pass the window.

That they would point and laugh - when normally the window is full of mouth-agape admirers - made me realise something was not quite right. So when I left last night, I looked very carefully at the area they were pointing. And I discovered that one of the cupcakes in the jars had gotten a bit...fuzzy. And sadly, not in a "warm fuzzy" sort of way but in a "gee it's hot and moist in this lovely lidded jar, I think I shall grow a beard for protection" sort of way. Not good.

Not good - because I have spent a lifetime laughing and pointing at cake shops too lazy or lacking in an eye for detail to notice that the cakes in their window look like crap, and wondering what shit business owners they must be if they are letting their ADVERTISING (and make no mistake, that's what a window display is) go dusty and mouldy.

You can imagine how much I beat myself up about this. A LOT.

Idiot me thought, "I'm tired, I'll deal with this in the morning," and went home. And then promptly felt grumpy and did not sleep well and debated twenty million times about returning to the shop and getting rid of the offensive cupcake.

Idiot. I SO should have done it. But by then I was tired and sore and just over it all so I stayed home and moped about it instead. Totally useless strategy, that.

This morning I ran to the shop and had a tantrum of the "I'm going to throw out every single item on the display and scrub like a madwoman," sort. I then had a day full of minor irritations. Like the client who stiffed me on a $680 order (which thank god I'd only baked for but nothing else was done, and good cake will always find a home) - you know, that sort of day filled with small things whose sole purpose is just to piss you off.

And then I remembered something. Cooking - or rather, just making beautiful things with my hands - is therapeautic for me. So I spent my entire day creating a nice, new, clean and gorgeous display (and the jars are filled but not with cupcakes). I love it - because this morning I started the day with a pile of naked styrofoam cakes, random scraps of ribbon and bits which I had no idea what to do with - and at the end of the day I had a whole lot of gorgeous cakes to put out for the world to see.

Tonight the last thing I did at work was was stand on the sidewalk with my daughter and survey the display and make sure it had not a single cachou out of place.

Tonight I remembered that I might be a little irrated and grumpy, but the things I have to be grateful for FAR outnumber those which seek to piss me off. I even found a place in my heart to feel sorry for the client who stiffed me, because now her son won't have the beautiful cake and cupcakes at his birthday party which she ordered for him, AND she and all her guests will miss out on the wonder which is a serving of ridiculously chocolatey yumminess which is a 3S cake. Between you and me, I think that means she's the one who got stiffed.

As DD2 and I walked away from the shop to head home, I just smiled to myself about how even a crappy day can end on a high note if you reach far enough into your soul and a bucket of icing. And then we got to the car and I found the can of Pringles I'd forgotten I had in there, and she and I drove home in a haze of salt and crunch.

And, really, is there anyone out there whose grump cannot be cured with cake and crisps? I think not.