I lost my lid
I like my tea, so much so that I recently gave into a tea leaf whimsy and bought a packet of reasonably expensive Tesco’s Finest Assam. Yesterday was the first experience of tea leaves in a loose and free form way since ooooh, years back. Strange I should even want to do this as I hate the little bits that get swished out of tea bags in my cuppa, so removing the perforated teabag from the equation is risking my sanity.
Made the tea with no problems, it’s the second cup I went for the proved too much for my little under-used brain. 1. Pour skimmed milk in to the bottom of my very tall, and favourite, mug. 2. Place tea strainer on top of mug. 3. Lift bright lime green teapot and pour out tea. Except it looked more like dark brown diarrhoea which isn’t so nice to drink. 4. Realise that no more tea is going to gained from this pot, lift lid to see plenty of the dreaded bits. 5. Put lid down walk over to bin to tap away tea remains from the little sieve and the pot. 6. Walk to sink to swill out the pot ready for next time. 7. Walk back to kettle to retrieve lid…. no lid in sight. I check the sink, the draining board, the counter top, behind, in front and beside the kettle, no lid. So I look around me in case I put it down some place else whilst I wasn’t thinking about it: I check the kitchen island, the fridge, the cutlery draw, the microwave, the bin - several times, a tad unpleasant job, the sink again, in the kettle, around the kettle again, in various boxes of teabags (I said I like my tea), in cupboards, in the sugar pot. I start to think I’m going mad and that it’s actually right in front of me but for some unfathomable reason my brain isn’t registering it. I seek the assistance of my father, who’s loitering around the house at present. He can’t see a little bright lime green teapot lid either, and proceeds to check all the places I just have and a few more that I haven’t, just in case. The conclusion is that the resident evil mouse has had away with it. It’s decided that it liked the look of it and is now wearing it as a sombrero. It’s a tough little thing, it’s chewed its way through too much of my bedroom carpet, the wee bastard.
I resolve to solve the riddle by retracing my steps, because the idea that a tiny mouse with rather sharp teeth could have somehow dashed in and out to fetch my teapot lid is ridiculous. I actively walked out all that I did before I realised that the thing had disappeared from my vision as opposed to just thinking about my actions. Still no sign of it, and I realise I don’t actually have any memory of where I put it down, just that it was in my hand one moment and not the next. It’s as though my brain has completely wiped that nanosecond from the memory banks. I have a memory of the lid, but not the item itself and no memory of what I did with it. The thieving mouse option looks a little more possible.
I give up, and reckon it’ll appear when I stop thinking about it, as often happens. But… the sudden thought occurs to me that perhaps, perhaps it dropped off the counter and landed on the floor. But as I can’t see it down there it must have gone under one the units. On to the hands and knees and there it is, almost glowing in the gloom, my little lid. The joy of being reunited with it was close upon real happiness. Christ, I’m sad.
