We read together every day, and for the past while we've been reading this book:
We sit comfortably, and I begin to read. It goes so well to begin with.
And then the inevitable happens. It goes something like this.
There's a pause in my reading. One of my daughters looks and then rolls her eyes.
My other daughter begins to sniff. She's mocking.
The pause continues, because I can't breathe. Therefore I can't talk. And then I try to talk. It comes out in a squeak. And I say,
'But can't you..sniff...see. It's...sniff... so sad'.
At this point, the wee guy will normally say, 'Mum...sigh... it's only a book'. C'mon - READ!'
'But....sniff....squeak...I can't. I'm....Can't you... sniff...see. The....poor... squeak...man.
Right, I'm ready. I'll be okay. I'll be fine for the rest of the chapter.
I seldom am.
I wish I cried elegantly. Do you know what I mean? I see women on TV who are able to cry beautifully. They are able to carry on talking - or even singing, for crying out loud - whilst a tear gracefully falls down their cheek. They still look beautiful. Their eyes aren't red or puffy. Their faces don't contort. They still seem able to breathe.
When I cry, none of these things are true. I can't breathe.
My eyes go red and puffy.
My face finds odd contortions, previously unknown to mankind.
And I can't talk (one generally needs to be able to breathe to talk).
I certainly do not cry elegantly. Or gracefully. Okay, so the fact that I don't do anything elegantly or gracefully is irrelevant here. You didn't need to bring that up, thank you.
I wish I didn't cry so much. In another post, I may give a list of ten things that make me cry. Most of them are ridiculous, though some are not.
Just for a hint......read on.