Tea Story

Journal

Tea Story

I woke dazed and confused on Saturday morning due to Fliss disappearing downstairs at an unusually early time. Normally I try to surface before her during the weekend so that I can play a game or two on the big tv in the lounge. It turned out that she had woken up early and since it was such a nice day she decided to stay up, albeit in her pj’s.

I joined her on the couch in a very sleepy state, lying on her lap while the Saturday morning TV presenters wittered on in the background. By the time I was starting to wake up, Fliss had made us both a seriously hot cup of tea – I placed mine on the floor while she sat there holding her cup in her right hand, balanced on her leg. The scene is set: I’m not totally awake, she is holding a very hot cup of tea.

In a moment of mischief, I wondered if I could bite her, just a little nibble you understand, and make good my escape before her left hand could make a swift connection with my face. Weighing up the odds I decided this was indeed possible.

However, the quick nibble caused a totally unforseen scenario to unfold before me. The very instant I bit, Fliss flinched and the hot cup of tea was introduced to her thigh and groin area quicker than her nervous system could register the temperature of it. For about half a second, that was, before she leapt from the couch, planted her cup on the floor and began prancing in the direction of the door with her pj bottoms held out in front of her by the waist band. Judging by the thump–thump–thump on the stairs, she was heading for the top bathroom at many speed of antelope.

She may have said the word “idiot!” along the way, but this was of too high a pitch for me to pick up clearly – my apologies to nearby dogs and other wildlife who were needlessly startled. To my regret, I couldn’t help but laugh. Not a deep bellied laughing policeman kind of laugh, but a nervous, stifled “you shouldn’t be laughing at this because you are soooo dead when she comes back” kind of laugh.

At this point I actually said “I am dead” out loud, but, I mean, what could I do? – the damage was now well and truly done – irreversibly so. There’s no real way of un-introducing a steaming hot cup of tea from someone’s crotch after the event, is there?

As I heard the shower running from the bathroom above, I glanced around to see that the tea had made it onto a cushion that had been on Fliss‘ left hand side. “I could clean her cushion!” I thought – in some way redeeming myself for causing burns to the area you never want to be burned in.

Although a good idea in theory, cleaning the cushion took all of two minutes (that Bounty kitchen roll really works, and you don’t actually have to cross dress to use it!) and was not really going to make up for what I’d done.

Since all had gone quiet upstairs I supposed that it would be a good idea to put in an appearance. I figured I was in Grande Merde anyway, but if I just sat there and waited for her to come back down I would be in far superior doodoo.

After several attempts at stopping myself from laughing, I slowly climbed the stairs to find Fliss in the altogether, sitting on the bed with a towel covering the afflicted area. Fortunately, as is not often the case when Fliss has had limited sleep, she appeared to have taken the event in good humour, or at least seen the funny side of things whilst dousing her lower body in cold water.

“Do you know how embarrassing it would be to go to casualty with a scalded crotch?!” she asked my rather sheepish looking face as I entered the room. “I am sooo sorry.” was all I could offer with a straight face, before I caved into a fit of laughter.

In the end there was no lasting damage done – more by luck than anything else, as my cup of tea proved to be quite warm even after all the excitement. Best of all, Fliss forgave me very quickly, and hasn’t sought any form of revenge… yet. :o)