We’ve all had those cringe experiences (I hope? Please tell me I’m not alone in my shame?) You know the type I’m talking about: you’re at a function, feeling pretty. You’ve just been introduced to a charming stranger and your soul shouts, “The One!” You flash him your most dazzling smile and, after animatedly talking for a few entertaining moments, you leave him drooling at your retreating backside as you sashay towards the ladies’ room. (Beyoncé wishes she had your swagger in that moment!) While you lean into the mirror to reapply some lippy, you can’t help fantasizing about the wedding theme colour and what your future kids will look like with your hair and his eyes, and you send a quick, very necessary prayer to the heavens that your little cherub gets his nose (fingers crossed!). The thought makes you smile and, in that moment, your whole life seems dreamy. But – oh no, please – what is that reflected in the mirror? You lean a bit closer, a blush already starting at your knees and moving up… Yes. There it is… your entire Greek Salad you ate earlier, cracked black pepper and all, wedged neatly between your two front teeth. (This kind of shit just doesn’t happen to Beyoncé, I tell you). So much for your Grand Entry… no, more like a sudden case of Dysentery.