Was I going crazy and they weren’t going to tell me? It would be an act of kindness on their part. But wasn’t I going to find out sooner or later? Insanity kind of crept up on a person and made itself evident eventually. I rummaged around some more. It had to be here somewhere. I hadn’t imagined going to Bentonville, standing in the tea shop and getting honey, ginger and rosehips tea, and hippy ginseng and green tea. Or had I?
The kettle sang. Crap. I made an executive decision and chose the youngberry and orange tea. That was in a canister I could find. I put it in the tea ball, (I found that, no problem), and the ball into the teapot, (which I also found, thank God), on the tea tray that was strangely still around. Had I traveled somewhere into a parallel Universe where my tea did not exist?
As the tea steeped I went back to rummaging. Where was that Tupperware container with the tea? It was at least ten inches long and six inches wide. Something that size did not go poof. I pulled out the plastic grocery bags that we have stored under the counter where the tea used to be. I felt one that had something in it. It was the TEA! What the hell? It was there but the Tupperware wasn’t? Something was definitely hinky.
I brought the tea tray into the living room and served. Layce sniffed her cup. “This isn’t the ginger tea,” she stated.
“I know. I couldn’t find the ginger tea so we’re having youngberry instead.”
“But I was looking forward to the ginger tea.”
“Well, the kettle was boiling and I had to make an executive decision. I didn’t find the ginger tea until after I made the other tea because by some unknown hinky event the Tupperware that the GINGER tea was in went missing. I found it in a plastic grocery bag that was in with a bunch of other grocery bags that you make plarn out of so God-only-knows when we would have found the GINGER tea had I not located it now.”
“What are you saying? That I’m falling behind on my plarn-making?”
“Well, if the shoe fits.” I sipped my tea. “Why was my tea in that bag anyway?” I eyeballed Layce. The nickels were being to go ching-ching. It wasn’t something Em would have done. I didn’t do it and the dogs do not have opposable thumbs.
“I put it there because that particular piece of Tupperware is for the freezer so I put the tea in a bag and took the Tupperware.” She sipped her tea that she wished was ginger tea but was not because she hid the tea to make me think I was crazy.
“Oh, so you put the tea in a plastic bag with a bunch of other plastic bags without telling me that we were playing the Purloined Letter and you put the tea where I would recall the Edgar Allen Poe story and find the tea after I ripped up the floor boards.”
“It was my freezer Tupperware.”
“And I was supposed to know this how?”
“All the stuff with blue lids are FREEZER Tupperware.”
“Well, why didn’t you mark it accordingly? Like put a Post-It that says ‘This is FREEZER Tupperware. Use it at your own risk,’ which in this case was the risk of insanity.”
“Insanity?” Layce said.
“I thought I had imagined buying that tea because I couldn’t find it.”
“Really? It would be that easy to drive you insane?”
“You know what the moral of this story is?” Layce asked.
“The youngberry and orange tea was a perfectly acceptable substitute for the ginger?”
“Wrong. The moral of this story is keep your tea out of my Tupperware,” she said.
“You say that now.” I waggled my eyebrows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I smiled and waggled my eyebrows again, putting extra meaning behind the gesture.
“I don’t understand you. You’re driving me crazy,” Layce said.
I smiled. Turnabout is fair play. I sipped my tea.
Crazy Little Thing, a tour de farce, is now available!
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So if you need a lift or a laugh – actually, I can’t think of any situation that reading this book wouldn’t improve – go buy it, read it, and laugh yourself silly. ~Geekzilla