I love tea.
I remember the first time tea and I met. I was in my dorm room in Boston on a wintry day, and I had a friend visiting me from California. Normally, I would have scurried around performing some task that I thought was necessary at the time, but since I had a visitor, I forced myself to take a break. I brewed us both a cup of tea, and we sat and chatted. It was magical. The company was good, the tea was warm, and I was relaxed, not rushing about. From that day forward tea and I have been constant companions.
After tea and I had been together for only a few months, I began sampling the different flavors. The first time I discovered red tea, I saw on the package a long list touting its miracle powers. The package claimed red tea prevents cancer, lowers your blood pressure, boosts your immune system, prevents teen pregnancy, decreases illiteracy, and helps balance California’s budget. Sure, I was a little skeptical of some of the claims, but I still liked reading the list. I like thinking that drinking tea grants me immortality.
Now that tea and I are life partners, I drink four or five cups a day—different kinds throughout the day, of course. At night, it is crucial that I have a cup of Sleepy Time. It’s very cute. There’s a papa bear on the box snoozing in a chair. On the old boxes, in the background, there used to be a mama bear doing laundry, putting the children to bed, and looking rather busy and stressed while her good-for-nothing husband napped, unconcerned, in the corner. As a woman, it was a bit offensive, actually, and other people must have thought so too because the busy and stressed mama bear has since disappeared. Now it just has the cute snoozing papa bear.
My husband was making a shopping run once, and Sleepy Time tea was written very clearly on the list. To my horror, he returned with Bedtime Tea. It’s not cute at all. There’s a moon and stars on it. How ridiculous. Who would want to drink such a thing?
“What’s the difference?” my husband asked.
“I want the misogynistic bear tea!” I told him.
Months of couples counseling have not erased the trauma of this obvious instance of neglect.
I do have a shameful secret. I got a little bored of drinking Sleepy Time tea every night, even though the bear is so cute. In a moment that I can only describe as an out of body experience, I bought Bedtime Tea. I still disapproved of the moon; I just wanted something different. My husband eventually discovered my purchase, and I have yet to live it down.
I like to take a cup of tea with me to the movies. I know outside food isn’t allowed, and it’s hard to hide a steaming cup of tea in my purse. Sometimes the workers do try to stop me, but I tell them it’s just water (asterisk: with dissolved herbs), so no rules are being violated. Once this happened when I was going to the movies with my aunt, and suddenly I was ashamed. I didn’t want my aunt to know that I was so devoted to tea that I was willing to lie to teenage ticket takers about it, especially as I’m a teacher, so I took the tea back to the car. Tea was very upset that I was hiding our relationship from others, and it was a regretful day for me.
I have a full drawer devoted to tea. It brings me joy to look into it during my three or four tea times throughout the day. I try to keep a stock of white, black, green, red, Sleepy Time, peppermint, and various other herbal teas. It’s traumatic when I finish too many tea boxes at once. Once my collection dissipated to only five boxes, clearly a situation that ranked as a security level orange threat. My husband was unsympathetic. In his ignorance, he felt that there was more than enough tea to last me for several weeks. In fact, he frequently complains when there are so many teas in the drawer that it won’t close properly. He’s always been jealous of the bond tea and I share. Plus, I love it when the drawer won’t close! Those are some of the happiest and most secure moments in my life.
I have a secret confession. After the Only Five Teas Left in the Drawer Incident, a day that now lives in infamy in our house, I felt the danger of being without my variety of curative balms—the nightmare and panic had become real, and I had to take immediate action to prevent it from ever happening again. On my next shopping trip, I stocked up. I bought several boxes of various kinds, shoving extra Sleepy Times into my cart. When I got home, they wouldn’t all fit in the drawer—not even close, and I’ll admit that it is a bit embarrassing when my husband opens the jammed tea drawer to see boxes packed on top of each other. So, I had to hide the extra Sleepy Time boxes in a separate section of the cabinets, where my husband wouldn’t notice them. I have a secret extra stash now, but it’s necessary to prevent the tea famine from ever striking the land again.
I remember the first time tea and I met. I was in my dorm room in Boston on a wintry day, and I had a friend visiting me from California. Normally, I would have scurried around performing some task that I thought was necessary at the time, but since I had a visitor, I forced myself to take a break. I brewed us both a cup of tea, and we sat and chatted. It was magical. The company was good, the tea was warm, and I was relaxed, not rushing about. From that day forward tea and I have been constant companions.
After tea and I had been together for only a few months, I began sampling the different flavors. The first time I discovered red tea, I saw on the package a long list touting its miracle powers. The package claimed red tea prevents cancer, lowers your blood pressure, boosts your immune system, prevents teen pregnancy, decreases illiteracy, and helps balance California’s budget. Sure, I was a little skeptical of some of the claims, but I still liked reading the list. I like thinking that drinking tea grants me immortality.
Now that tea and I are life partners, I drink four or five cups a day—different kinds throughout the day, of course. At night, it is crucial that I have a cup of Sleepy Time. It’s very cute. There’s a papa bear on the box snoozing in a chair. On the old boxes, in the background, there used to be a mama bear doing laundry, putting the children to bed, and looking rather busy and stressed while her good-for-nothing husband napped, unconcerned, in the corner. As a woman, it was a bit offensive, actually, and other people must have thought so too because the busy and stressed mama bear has since disappeared. Now it just has the cute snoozing papa bear.
My husband was making a shopping run once, and Sleepy Time tea was written very clearly on the list. To my horror, he returned with Bedtime Tea. It’s not cute at all. There’s a moon and stars on it. How ridiculous. Who would want to drink such a thing?
“What’s the difference?” my husband asked.
“I want the misogynistic bear tea!” I told him.
Months of couples counseling have not erased the trauma of this obvious instance of neglect.
I do have a shameful secret. I got a little bored of drinking Sleepy Time tea every night, even though the bear is so cute. In a moment that I can only describe as an out of body experience, I bought Bedtime Tea. I still disapproved of the moon; I just wanted something different. My husband eventually discovered my purchase, and I have yet to live it down.
I like to take a cup of tea with me to the movies. I know outside food isn’t allowed, and it’s hard to hide a steaming cup of tea in my purse. Sometimes the workers do try to stop me, but I tell them it’s just water (asterisk: with dissolved herbs), so no rules are being violated. Once this happened when I was going to the movies with my aunt, and suddenly I was ashamed. I didn’t want my aunt to know that I was so devoted to tea that I was willing to lie to teenage ticket takers about it, especially as I’m a teacher, so I took the tea back to the car. Tea was very upset that I was hiding our relationship from others, and it was a regretful day for me.
I have a full drawer devoted to tea. It brings me joy to look into it during my three or four tea times throughout the day. I try to keep a stock of white, black, green, red, Sleepy Time, peppermint, and various other herbal teas. It’s traumatic when I finish too many tea boxes at once. Once my collection dissipated to only five boxes, clearly a situation that ranked as a security level orange threat. My husband was unsympathetic. In his ignorance, he felt that there was more than enough tea to last me for several weeks. In fact, he frequently complains when there are so many teas in the drawer that it won’t close properly. He’s always been jealous of the bond tea and I share. Plus, I love it when the drawer won’t close! Those are some of the happiest and most secure moments in my life.
I have a secret confession. After the Only Five Teas Left in the Drawer Incident, a day that now lives in infamy in our house, I felt the danger of being without my variety of curative balms—the nightmare and panic had become real, and I had to take immediate action to prevent it from ever happening again. On my next shopping trip, I stocked up. I bought several boxes of various kinds, shoving extra Sleepy Times into my cart. When I got home, they wouldn’t all fit in the drawer—not even close, and I’ll admit that it is a bit embarrassing when my husband opens the jammed tea drawer to see boxes packed on top of each other. So, I had to hide the extra Sleepy Time boxes in a separate section of the cabinets, where my husband wouldn’t notice them. I have a secret extra stash now, but it’s necessary to prevent the tea famine from ever striking the land again.
