And then the everyday can be a tedious as hell, driving you so far up the wall you've gone across the ceiling and back down the other side without realising it and still nothing has changed. Like when the Wee One shouts, "I do it!" and tries to put his trousers on upsidedown.
Some days, the kids get the playdoh out, let their imagination run and make funny monsters, that according to them, are representative of Mummy before she's brushed her hair in the morning, and it's funny. It makes you laugh. No effort, no pain, no sighs of impatience. Just fun.
Other days, the kids get the playdoh out, let their imaginations run and break it up into minute pieces that migrate all over the living room rug, slowly getting ground into the pile, providing hours of entertainment while you try, in vain, to pick it all out again. Oh and they make monsters.
Some days we have patience and can go with the flow of what life tosses our way. But when, instead, life hurls stuff at us, forcefully, smacking you in the face just as you've puckered up for a sloppy toddler kiss, that's when it stings and you cannot fathom how you can do this day after day.
It's hard to smile when you are doing the same stuff, the boring everyday stuff, the stuff you have been doing, well everyday, for too many turns of the calendar. But looking for the funny, waiting for the silly face, even though it's raining and you are a bit late and you would really rather be sitting in a cafe with a book people watching, watching people do their everyday stuff ironically, that's when the everyday is better than bearable, and surprises you with a hug.
Joining in with The Gallery and the prompt, The Everyday.
