In which I describe a tea failure of epic proportions...

Dear Reader,

Let me set the scene for you. It was a warm but not unpleasant summer afternoon. The kind which threatens rain.* The kind we British deem perfect barbecue whether. And indeed I did barbecue for it was the last evening of Cubs this term.

An enjoyable game of kwik cricket, two burgers and a few glasses of fiery ginger beer later I was satiated. The cubs all left with their respective guardians and I set off home.

On the drive back I got to thinking, as I often do, that I desired some good company and a pot of tea. Potentially even a biscuit to round off the evening.

*Indeed the rain did not fall though it did get gloomier.

The Return

The corridor was dark when I returned which did not bode well but my spirits were lifted by the sound of music from a friend's room. I knocked and they sadly stated they were indisposed even where tea was concerned. I thought to myself: "No matter, I'll just have a single cup. No need to break out the leaf tea then. A cup of Yorkshire Tea will do me just fine." Still looking forward to a lovely cuppa I proceeded to the kitchen...

I found the hilariously dishwashed tea bag holder empty.