I reach up into the shelf where we keep such wonders and realise with some despair that there is no tea. Green tea and other herbal teas do not count. The box is gone, finished. I see the humor in the situation – the fact that we’ve run out of bread and are down to the last centimetre of milk doesn’t inspire my confidence in the stocking of the basics in this house.
I think about going to where we keep some camping supplies to find an old one but instead I take my chances sifting through the box of random ‘teas’ (the kind that don’t merrit drinking). There is one very boring, very normal, very wonderful bag or two left.
Cheers all round.
That was a nice cup of tea.