Snuggling by the fire on a stormy day is the ultimate comfort. My mother is visiting me at the moment, and so I have naturally reverted to my 12-year old self (as always) quite happily.
Mums are quite simply amazing. The kitchen is buzzing like a New York restaurant, with an array of tantalising treats constantly appearing to tempt my taste buds (not to mention my waist line). She has waved her magic mummy wand over my house in its entirety with an effortless grace – and constant smile upon her face.
This afternoon as we sipped steaming our hot chocolates by the fireplace, and indulged in Anzac cookies (freshly baked of course), I began reminiscing about my childhood, and how Mum used to braid my hair most mornings before school.
As a child I dreaded my unruly locks being pulled, pressed and preened into place, but this afternoon I felt compelled to try it again, with a slight twist. I suggested she weave a scarf into the braid, and not only did it end up looking rather cute, it didn’t hurt in the slightest!