My Granny used to always say we should paint on our mask. Put on our war paint and confront the day.
Ok so I don't trowel on the make up but I always (well nearly always) have a smile on my face and a laugh in my chest. Sometimes, though, it slips. My smile is lost and the laugh has flown the nest (chest as it were).
It may slip for a short time or a more prolonged period however I know that one day it will be back. How I get it back I am never sure. Maybe it will be something my little girl does that makes my heart melt, or spaghetti bolognese cooked by my boyfriend, a glass of wine with a friend, a cup of coffee, a natter with the mummies or some time with my pole sisters. Whatever wings bring my smile back they are always welcomed with open arms. Who knows how long it will stay.
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