There is a crisis in the kitchen!!!
I search the fridge in some agitation. Milk is nowhere to be seen. Without milk I am unable to make tea, and without making tea I will be unable to drink it.
My search is fruitless, and also pointless as I know very well that we have no milk. I used the last of the milk a while back, whilst making tea. And I have forgotten to go to the Village Shop to replace it. Boooooooo – we have no milk!!! Life is not good after all, what with not having any milk. Boooooooo!!!
The nearest milk is a six-mile round trip away. I really do not want to drive six miles for a single pint of milk.
I stomp into the lounge. “Do we need anything else from the shop?” I demand of the LTLP. We rack our brains. Driving six miles for a single item is ludicrous, and would be bad for the environment. But if we needed two items then that would make the trip a bit more worthwhile, and be only half as bad for the environment. We cannot think of a single extra thing we need aside from the milk.
I swallow my pride.
“Iwasjustwondering,” I mumble, as Short Tony answers the door, “ificouldborrowabitofmilk.”
“Again,” I add, a little shamefacedly.
Short Tony gracefully assents to my request. “Good oh!” I exclaim, bringing out a large jug from behind my back.
Milk!!! We have some milk!!! Thanks to the generosity and good-spiritedness of our neighbours, I will be able to make a nice cup of tea!!!
There are no teabags.
I stare, boggle-eyed at the teabag tin. No matter how hard I look, it remains a nothingness void of teabags. I grip the tin in astonishment and fury; astonishment because clearly this is a particularly annoying time to discover a lack of teabags; fury because I now distinctly recall using the last teabag for the same cup of tea for which I used the last of the milk (see above). The LTLP is unimpressed.
“Are you SURE we don’t need anything else from the shop?” I demand. I really do not want to do a six-mile round trip just for one item (teabags). If I required two items (eg, teabags and milk) then it might be worthwhile, but that journey for a single item would be ludicrous.
“Thankyoueversomuch,” I mumble at Mrs Big A, as she hands over teabags. “I would have gone next door again. But I was a bit embarrassed.”
I take my kindly donated teabags. I have to hurry past Short Tony’s house on my way back. I sort of cover my face with my hands so he won’t see me and come out and call me an idiot.