Just sitting in bed with a book, crying.
Big weepy tears, the ones that slide satisfactorily down your cheek. No mincey snivelling or welling up. This is the Real Deal. I have snivelled while the youngest Little Latte unpacked and packed the craft box. And she has held her little arms out to cuddle me. Which made it worse. I cried while the whole Coffee family (bar me) snuggled together on the sofa watching a film. I cried while reading.
Funny but yesterday, when the eldest Little Latte was having her birthday party, and I spent the time sitting on the floor in the church hall kitchen while Mr Coffee, my mother, and my two friends ran the whole thing, I didn't cry. I just sat on the floor next to the bin and thought "Everyone is having such a good time, how lovely for them".
Then Mr Coffee and the eldest Little Latte set off to watch the fireworks, and I thought that I could maybe see one or two out of the window. And as soon as the first firework popped up over the cover of the houses opposite, the tears started doing their slidy thing, and it was ridiculous and just better to be in bed.
On the upside I am wearing my comfy new Next lounging trousers that Friend L got from town for me on Friday. Friend L understands being ill as she has done it herself quite spectacularly so she got them for me and it was so kind, that well... I could cry.
In fact I think I will.