My life has a fabulous way of reminding me not to sweat the small stuff, however I wish sometimes it would do it in a kinder, nicer way but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. There I was last night getting hooked up on the drama of an argument I found myself in over some barbed words which were said in a moment of reactionary anger when I got a sharp smack upside the head to remind me that the little things don’t matter when there is big scary stuff going on. It put it into perspective quick sharp and to bastardise a playground riddle ‘brain tumours and cancer will break my bones, but words will never hurt me’. My heart broke into pieces last night when I found out that the Middle Wife’s Mum is in hospital with another (suspected) brain tumour and it made the harsh words become just that, words. I’m scared for the Middle Wife and her family, I’m sad that her brother is on the other side of the World while all this is unfolding and I’m left wondering what I can do to help.