Time for Tea
You can tell a lot about a person from the way they take their tea.
My father is a clumsy man and refuses to dunk his biscuits, in case he should make a mess. My mother holds her cup in one hand, her pinky finger extended, to appear delicate and refined when, in truth, she is neither.
As for me, I always take my tea with my family. They haven’t moved for nearly three months and the smell is getting rather bad, but I still make them a fresh brew every morning.
I’m not sure what that says about me.
