I spent the day at home with Mama Bear today, and she said something to me that I haven't heard in the six months since I moved in.
MB: Would you like a cuppa?
Me: Oh... yes please.
And off she went to make it.
I could hear her clinking and clacking things in the kitchen and I just continued doing my laundry... you know folding and putting away... fetching the ironing board and iron and setting it up to start on my work shirts and so on. And then starting to iron... this cuppa was taking a looooong time to materialise. I paused and could still hear MB in the kitchen pottering around doing whatever was necessary to make the promised cuppa.
It was right then that I realised that she hadn't actually identified the substance that was going to be in the cup once she had finished making it. It came to me that the substance was not necessarily going to be tea or for that matter coffee or soup or even liquid... and then it occurred to me that she may have even forgotten what it was she was out there in the kitchen for.
Then...
MB: There we go, white and one.
Me: Oh.... I... um, thanks.
I don't take sugar. I almost said something but she had such a look of accomplishment on her face. Mama Bear was so proud of her small feat, that I didn't have the heart to say anything.
Me: (Recognising that it was indeed tea in the cup and trying to keep the sound of surprise out of my voice) Oh it's tea.
MB: (Shooting me a look) Of course it's tea... what else am I going to put in a tea cup?
So I thought it best to just drink it, with the sugar, and grin and bear it. I mean it's just going to be terribly sweet, it won't kill me.
I then put the cup to my lips and glanced over the rim, to MB, and the expectant look on her face. She was pleased as punch.
The following, within the space of a second or two, is what happened next;
Cup touches lip... thought - remember to smile and say nice, thanks... aroma hits nostrils... thought - yes that's tea... but... tea touches lips... thought - but, what's the aroma... tea washes over lips... thought - something familiar about the aroma... tea reaches tongue... thought - tastes like tea... but... take tea back into mouth... thought - sweetness, where's the sweetness... swallow tea as flood of realisation as to what the aroma, and now the overwhelming taste is... SALT
That's right...
Me: (Smiling) That's lovely, thanks. (I have a spoon of salt in my tea...)
Well it was white and one... sigh.
My experience with MB has started me to think that there might be a whole blog or even a book in it - My Life With Mama Bear. Nah no one would believe it.
MB: Would you like a cuppa?
Me: Oh... yes please.
And off she went to make it.
I could hear her clinking and clacking things in the kitchen and I just continued doing my laundry... you know folding and putting away... fetching the ironing board and iron and setting it up to start on my work shirts and so on. And then starting to iron... this cuppa was taking a looooong time to materialise. I paused and could still hear MB in the kitchen pottering around doing whatever was necessary to make the promised cuppa.
It was right then that I realised that she hadn't actually identified the substance that was going to be in the cup once she had finished making it. It came to me that the substance was not necessarily going to be tea or for that matter coffee or soup or even liquid... and then it occurred to me that she may have even forgotten what it was she was out there in the kitchen for.
Then...
MB: There we go, white and one.
Me: Oh.... I... um, thanks.
I don't take sugar. I almost said something but she had such a look of accomplishment on her face. Mama Bear was so proud of her small feat, that I didn't have the heart to say anything.
Me: (Recognising that it was indeed tea in the cup and trying to keep the sound of surprise out of my voice) Oh it's tea.
MB: (Shooting me a look) Of course it's tea... what else am I going to put in a tea cup?
So I thought it best to just drink it, with the sugar, and grin and bear it. I mean it's just going to be terribly sweet, it won't kill me.
I then put the cup to my lips and glanced over the rim, to MB, and the expectant look on her face. She was pleased as punch.
The following, within the space of a second or two, is what happened next;
Cup touches lip... thought - remember to smile and say nice, thanks... aroma hits nostrils... thought - yes that's tea... but... tea touches lips... thought - but, what's the aroma... tea washes over lips... thought - something familiar about the aroma... tea reaches tongue... thought - tastes like tea... but... take tea back into mouth... thought - sweetness, where's the sweetness... swallow tea as flood of realisation as to what the aroma, and now the overwhelming taste is... SALT
That's right...
Me: (Smiling) That's lovely, thanks. (I have a spoon of salt in my tea...)
Well it was white and one... sigh.
My experience with MB has started me to think that there might be a whole blog or even a book in it - My Life With Mama Bear. Nah no one would believe it.
Bear.
5 comments:
This is actually a really touching tale. I definitely think you should dedicate a weekly spot to Mama Bear Tales. You're onto a winner!
Thank you Selma, I appreciate you dropping by and being so positive.
I did think that I'd do something with MB... I don't mean shove her off somewhere... although... nah just kidding. But I get material on a daily basis, so I will definitely be continuing on this theme for a while.
I get material from grammaJ who thought she had a detached retina yesterday (Just a "floater", thank the Lord!) and who believed the opthomologist when he told her he could see a "bug" in her eye and even believed me when I suggested that it might be one of the spiders she's seen in her kitchen lately.
Between her and Grampy (Mm's dad) who's in the hospital with an infection and is delirious and combative AND having my daughter and son-in-law with us 24/7 AND my son being here on leave before he heads off to Iraq AND him spending time here with his ex-wife and 3 kids (one of whom is autistic) with whom he is getting reacquainted and reattached before he ships out AND trying to squaeeze in writing on my NaNoWriMo project And, ya know, cooking and sleeping and all, I have apparently missed a post or two of yours.
Sorry.
But at least I have memories and loads of writing ideas!
Oh Groovy, I hear you, I really do.
But despite having SO much on your plate, I somehow STILL manage to visit you.
But seriously Groovy, I don't mean to pressure you to visit me, and being a blogger with less than 6 readers I very easily notice when one is missing. Although I just know that I'd miss you if you were in a much larger list of readers.
Thanks for popping in and a big thanks for not making me feel bad for insisting you come here.
:)
Yes, Bear, very endearing tale--write yore book, honey. Thar's much to say that might help others.
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