One Should Always Expect the Unexpected

When you spend £13 on a bottle of nail polish (I know, may the Gods of Indulgent Spending strike me down now) you dont expect that :-

• the polish will go on as well as oil will mix with water and that the only way you can get any sort of semblance of an assumed nail polish finish is to coax and whisper to it whilst you nudge it from the sides of your fingernails where it seems to constantly want to set up camp for the night
• it will look totally different to how it does sitting innocently in its overpriced bottle
• your fingernails, on drying, will resemble tiny sections of Westminster City Council pavement (albeit in a mildly sparkly but generally weird looking way)

Likewise when someone says they're making homemade carrot, chilli & coriander soup, as a diner you'd be expecting something akin to fresh orangey /spicy colours - not steaming bowls of pooh brownness (which is what it always turns into after cooking, processing and then cooking a bit more). 

Even if it tastes rather yum and keeps the Chuppies regular.



I also didnt expect that at the tender age of 39 I'd have to take time out every weekend to examine my neck in the mirror (specifically the right hand side) for plucking.  With tweezers.  It pains me to admit that even though I havent yet reached the age of 40 (although that little celebration is looming for me at the end of this year) my neck has other plans and has taken to sprouting an almost constant batch of whiskery tufts that are very difficult to get to and generally take so much time and effort that the Chuppies (without fail) will always end up walking in on me mid-pluck (after wondering where I've got to), leaving him wide-eyed and frightened and me old, cronish and ashamed.  That is, until I see the funny side of the situation, and then take to chasing him round the flat whilst brandishing a recently plucked tuft in my tweezers and daring him to touch it.  Ha ha.

Similarly I didnt expect that after over 12 lonely months on the market, the Chuppies' flat (his pride & joy) has still not sold.  So we're moving on to a different firm of agents with a different (slightly lower price).

Fingers crossed I shant be typing the very same sentence this time next year.  But, at least I'll know, that if I am, it wont be whilst wearing nail polish that makes my fingernails look like tarmacadam.