The other day, Maura asked for “tea” – Miriam was boiling water in the electric kettle for her dose of ramen noodles, and I thought Maura wanted tea. She’s had tea, and coffee, and the like. This made sense.
But then she took out her tea tray (yes, she has a tea tray) and set it up – two cups, a jug of milk, and then a bowl. She then went to the pantry and pulled out the makings for mac and cheese.
“Tea!” she said.
“Oh!” I said.
I have always found it funny, what Maura picked up in Ireland. Public transportation use, the utterance of “emmm” instead of “ummm” and now “tea”.
She doesn’t want a hot cuppa, no, she wants that after school tea – aka, a meal. She’d be perfectly happy with some sausages and chips I think. But she keeps asking every day for “tea”. Now to explain what “tea” means to the siblings, because Miriam was all set to make her a hot cuppa.
Today, there is no “tea” – the bread finally molded and Sean drank the last of the milk. The cabinets are bare. And we actually ran out of black tea (we’re low on chamomile as well.) No tea for anything, in any shape. I have to go find more food before these children waste away in the next two hours. Definitely before 5:30 pm. Because at 5:30 pm comes the 5:30 pm question – “What’s for dinner?”
Nothing, my child. You ate it all.
Somewhere, my brother is laughing. Because having witnessed my children’s feeding habits…well…he thinks it’s hilarious.