Five minutes ago I was one narky little chicken. But not now. Oh no. Five minutes ago I wanted stark revenge and painful retribution. But all that rage has since magically vanished.
That's right, I've put on a 'happy face'. The face that sunk a thousand witty comebacks and saved many a precarious relationship from a looming, earth-shattering kaboom. "Ooooh... what a happy wee face you have there!" say my many imaginary Irish friends as I try to slap them with potatoes.
Well, I tell you what Paddy, if I was true to myself, I'd publish the hard-core vent I've just saved as a draft. But my annoyingly wise and level-headed hubby has advised against it citing professional repercussions and potential legal suits.
So here I am. Sitting. Festering. With my hippity-hap-hap-happy face on.
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From the book of Lucksmiths:
She laughs at that old saying ‘let a smile be your umbrella’ I tell her ‘the next time that it’s raining I will hold it over you’.
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