“Morning,” Tracey whispered to me.
“Huh! Ermmm…….wha?….I thought you were going to let me sleep in,” I mumbled. “Why did you wake me?”
“Because,” said Tracey, “if I let you sleep in much longer I wouldn’t be able to say good morning.”
It was 11:15am and she had a blessed cup of coffee for me. I took a sip. It was perfect.
We’ve been burning the candle at both ends for a month now. Between Tracey rebooting her photography business, organising our bus, planning the trip, packing up the house and our normal day to day parenting activities, you may have noticed a drop in the number posts. Generally I like to put up at least one every two days, but that’s been annoyingly unachievable. It’s not that dumb stuff has stopped happening: it’s that I can barely string a sentence together.
Things came to a head on Thursday when I attempted to make myself a coffee and failed. I forgot to exchange the old pod for a new one and got something horrid and bitter. This has happened before, although incidents are mercifully rare. Cussing at my own stupidity I tipped it down the sink and went to the fridge for the milk again.
Considering the lack of caffeine in my system to be reaching critical levels, I didn’t even bother to warm my half a centimetre of milk up this time. I shoved the cup into my machine and pressed the button to release the golden elixir.
Sadly, it was less golden elixir and more day old floater.
I’d forgotten to change the stupid pod again!
So I did something I haven’t done in living memory – I decided to have a cup of tea.
I boiled the kettle and went looking for the ingredients. Cup + teabag + milk.
You might think, aside from pouring in the milk before the hot water, there’s no way to mess this up. So did I.
“Is it me or does this taste funny?” I mumbled to Tracey a minute later.
Her facial expression and spluttery hacking noises confirmed my suspicion way before she managed to get any words out.
“What have I done wrong?” I wondered aloud, shuffling back into the kitchen to retrace my steps while Tracey, bless her cotton socks, saved my sanity by making me a coffee and suggesting I sleep in the next day to catch up. “I just don’t understand how I can stuff up a cuppa?”
Tracey immediately discovered the answer on the bench.
“Next time you make yourself a cup of tea,” she said, picking something up and turning to face me, “you might try using milk.”
Dear dairy industry,
Stop being lazy.
Using the same bottles for both milk and custard is friggin cruel.
Raising a family on little more than laughs
Give the kids a table top game for Christmas
Love Letter is a family favourite here in Devereauxville – a fun, inexpensive and uncomplicated card game for ages 10+ (8+ with some help)