It's completely acceptable to cry at the birth of your children, at their school performances (although I was crying so hard at an assembly once that I had to leave!) and when they've said something to tug on your heartstrings.
It's also completely normal to cry at bad news, the death of someone close and at funerals but I cry at the stupidest of things;
I had tears rolling down my face when Russell Watson walked on to the stage at Ipswich Regent last year.
I get a lump in my throat when brass bands strike up a tune.
I sobbed, those great big heaving sobs, when I broke a broom yesterday.
When Mr Tumble bounced onto the Harvest stage I had to bite my lip to stop the tears. Seriously, wtf!
At the Suffolk Show last year the Army Air Corps put on a display and even that had me wet-eyed.
When I was pregnant I sobbed because someone at one of our parties had cleared up for us but not recycled. How dare they?!
Programmes like One Born Every Minute and Long Lost Family have to be avoided because I know what it'll do to me.
Events like carnivals have me welling up. It's pathetic.
I am a great big blubbering wreck and it's embarrassing. I should be known as Hypersensitivity Heidi.
Karma. That's what has caused it. As a child I used to be part of a gang of children who regularly teased a girl for being a cry baby and it's payback time!