And it’s fun to make tea for others too because it’s like cracking a code and there’s a real sense of accomplishment when you create and deliver a cuppa that makes them say “ooooh.” For example, I like my tea strong and on the milky side. Ed takes his black with sugar. Myfanwy used to just show the tea the milk and then take the milk away again before it could pollute the tea. My grandfather wanted you to really mash the bag and Clare likes the teabag out as soon as possible.

You can drink it straight away, blowing and sipping, scalding your tongue just a tiny bit and it’s worth it. Or you can wait until it’s a more swiggable temperature, ready to be downed in grateful mouthfuls. Then there’s the very last chance you have to drink it before disaster strikes: the down-it-in-one temperature. It’s still warm enough to be described as warm — but won’t be in twenty-three seconds so you tip the cup up and gulp it down and you’re tea-d up for the next little bit.

But leave it too long, miss that magic moment, you’re left holding a mugful of liquid disappointment.

Moments matter. Make sure they don’t go cold.

And then read this. Because even the smallest moments hold universes within.

That’s it really. No tea. Oh, and doing absolutely all the dishes, laundry, sweeping, arguing, mopping, driving, cooking, cajoling, comforting, reading, ferrying, wiping, negotiating, tidying, waking, tucking in, bathing, modulating, moderating, bill paying, telephoning, watering, brushing, fielding, finding, tiling, playing, crying, vacuuming, recovering, sorting, folding, smiling, reasoning, yelling, apologizing, disciplining, pool filling, decision making, trash removing, list compiling and grocery shopping. But at least I don’t have to share my Tofutti Fudge Treats, which, while only 7 out of 10 on the taste scale and pretty small besides, are only 30 calories and no fat whatsoever. Party on down, hot momma.