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||Dear Nicey and Wifey,|
I have enjoyed your site for some time now and in a world of "coffee and a muffin to go" find it an oasis of sanity. It's a real joy to find so many like minded people. There is, however, something that has been bothering me for some time and I am hoping to find some answers from anybody out there who has found a solution to the phenomenon of hot tea and its ability to attract small children to it's drinker like some kind of weird magnet. Whenever I have a cup of tea my children always want to come and perform acrobatic manoeuvres not more that 6 inches away from said beverage and will not cease in their energetic pursuits until the tea has been displaced from its cup and into my lap.
I have queried this with family and friends all of whom have witnessed the same uncanny ability of a cup of tea to call siren-like to any child in the vicinity to promptly start hurling themselves at the scalding hot liquid. It's always when the tea is hot enough to cause injury, once the tea has cooled to a temperature low enough only to cause the inconvenience of wet clothing or stained upholstery it loses its attractive properties. I know this because I have experimented with leaving the tea to cool before attempting to drink it, the tea loses its ability to draw children at precisely the same temperature at which it ceases to become nice to drink or able to inflict any scalding or burning injury. I have tried placing the cup away from me as I thought it may be the lure of a stationary parent that made them behave in this manner, but no, even when the tea is placed on top of a bookcase in another room they will play a dangerous game of amateur circus performers to bring the tea crashing to earth.
I have tried engaging the children in any number of entertaining diversions before partaking of my tea but to no avail. I had hoped this was just a passing phase and that they would grow out of it, but when discussing this with my sister she grimly informed me that her daughter was still compelled to cavort about near her mothers hot tea at the age of 24. I have also tried other beverages thinking it may be some kind of 6th sense present only in children, but only really hot tea causes a reaction, therefore it must be the tea.
Can anyone help me to enjoy a nice cup of hot tea and my children's company without having to have the car engine running in readiness for the inevitable mercy dash to the burns unit at our local children's hospital?
|Nicey replies: We have found the trick is to give them their own cup of tea.
||Thanks to this site, I now have a place to tell my frightful French story.|
It was 1989 and I was a little nervous, being 24-ish and on a solo business trip to France, and then a bit rattled from the drive through the "Etoile Charles de Gaulle" on the way into the office in Paris. But I was still pretty confident in my competence, my professionalism, and my masculinity. Until someone offered me coffee....
I politely asked if they had any tea. In Canada where I hail from, this is a fairly usual question after coffee is offered. In France, it produced horror and shock, followed by a round of sneers and supercilious little laughs.
After a suitably intimidating silence, my host replied "No, we don't have any, but perhaps you wish to ask one of the *women*. " This last word contained unspoken volumes regarding my evident lack of masculinity, naivete, and general unsuitability for the rigors of a serious business meeting in France between men. The women, it need hardly be said, were all clerical staff, in a separate room from the real men.
Bloodied but unbowed, I actually did beg a teabag from a friendly female clerk before proceeding to the meeting, where nobody took me at all seriously thereafter and mostly they all spoke french over my head.
From this humiliation I concluded that only women (and perhaps foreign poofters) drink tea in France. Or at least that this was the case in 1989. I think that this deserves further study, perhaps on this very Webzine...
Ginger Nut Review
I have long been a keen dunker of McVities Ginger Nuts, so much so that as a child I was known throughout our village as the Ginger Nut Kid and I don't even have ginger hair. For many years now my breakfast has consisted of a mug of tea, four Ginger Nuts and a fag, four months ago I managed to kick the smoking habit and as a reward I now have an extra Ginger Nut for my breakfast and feel much healthier for it.
I have just purchased your book from amazon.co.uk as a present for my partner who is expecting our third child soon and hope it will inspire her to put her feet up a bit more often as I feel she is doing too much.
Good luck with your publication and keep up the good work.
|Nicey replies: Well done on the not smoking thing, stick with it and good luck with your new member of staff.
Years ago when I gave up smoking after leaving University I turned to my childhood pastime of Origami, as a substitute. It worked very well and kept mind and hands occupied. Of course I then wound up hopelessly addicted to paper folding. I used to start climbing the walls when ever I was in one those social situation like drinks down the pub unless I got my hands on a bit of paper. Anything would do, an old shopping receipt, biscuit wrapper, or best of all leaflets. A small Origami dog, was about the same as a Silk Cut where as something complicated like a Kangaroo was worth two Rothmans, or three B&H. A really heavy night would be 3 or 4 dogs a couple of kangaroos and maybe robin.
I've managed to get the paper-folding under control now, but still indulge from time to time say after a big meal or on holiday.
||Hi again Nicey etc.,|
Just put another cuppa on and saw the tea money. By gran (the pink wafer one) from Falkland in Fife, Scotland, has always told us about the money in tea. She'll say 'oooohhhh thanks Tamara, you've stirred me up some money" (remember to do this with an east coast scottish accent with 30 years of Australian thrown in...)
What a nice web site you've done there. As I live in Paris it offers a welcome glimpse of bakelite and allotments, the smell of new Beanos in the paper shop, and everything else that make Great Britain possibly the most Great British of places on the face of the planet.
I have a confession, and I would gratefully appreciate your respecting my anonimity, a request you'll understand given the perverse nature of my sin.
I like eating digestive biscuits with a bit of sharp cheddar cheese. Nothing wrong with that, you say? How about *chocolate* digestives? Both milk and plain? I have to make sure there's no-one else in the house when I do this, as it disgusts and saddens my family.
I would find it of great comfort if there were others who, if not sharing my prediliction, could at least extend some sympathy along with the tea? God made me what I am.
Thank you for letting me get this off my chest. I feel better already.
|Nicey replies: Tim,
Yours is a recognised condition which is why we have the cheese icon.