I go to a meeting regularly where the patronising woman who hosts it always puts the biscuit plate down right in front of me - almost like she's making a point to be EXTRA SPECIALLY nice. (And they are very good biscuits, Marks and Spencers ones, or those posh little Italian ones. Sometimes there's even chocolate mini-rolls.)
Now, I do in return make a point of offering the biscuits to everyone at the table, just to make sure they're aware I do not, in spite of this lady's actions, consider I have any more right to the biscuits than anyone else in the room.
But people are too flippin' polite in this country and nobody, despite her obvious efforts to buy nice biscuits, makes free with this biscuit bounty - so it sits, beautifully presented, sometimes for hours, untouched, unappreciated, undevoured…
Recently I have begun to wonder whether this lady is not, as I have previously suspected, being patronising towards me because I am disabled, but simply sees in me a kindred soul, who appreciates a good biscuit. Perhaps she is saddend by the other meeting participants lack of biscuit interest. And it would not take an expert to note my impairment has nothing to do with my appetite, nor does it effect my weight. I do not look starved.
So last time we all met, the biscuit plate appeared as normal, pointedly in front of me. I offered, profusely, several times - and met a stonewall of no-thank-yous. So guess what? I ate all the biscuits! Every Last One. As time passed, with no other interest forthcoming, I ate the mini-rolls too!
As much as I tell myself it was only biscuit appreciation or good manners not to offend the hostess, in my heart I know I cracked and put biscuits before my disability pride. (Seriously, I did feel pretty terrible)... does that sound right to you?!
Constant pondering upon this act has only galvanised my guilt. Next time the biscuit plate appears in front of me I am resolved to tell her straight I do not like 'that sort' of biscuit. I shall push the plate to the middle of the table where nobody can touch it.
I thought it was a small sin, but perhaps it was more like the tip of of a big Disability Pride Iceberg.
Am I the only one with a stain on my soul, or are there others out there who have similar sins to confess?