The Spawn has a fondness for herbal teas. In particular, she likes a spearmint tea, of a sort we can only get through Amazon. She orders the stuff as her supply requires replenishment, and before I came to the office this afternoon, she reported the presence of a box on our front porch.
I brought it in, and she told me that she had ordered four boxes, each of which contained two dozen tea bags. I started to giggle. With the look of anticipatory dread that I’m used to getting from her, she said, “What?”
I said, “You mean that you have… 96 teas?”
I heard her sigh as I walked away, but I was singing:
“Too many tea bags, for one pot, to be steeping.
Too many tea bags, for one cup, to carry on…”