A cup of human kindness

June 22, 2011

Saturday morning, I woke up to find there was no milk in our flat. (Save a bottle of breastmilk in the fridge, but let’s not entertain that thought. Nope, too late.)

Simon was at work, and making the 10-minute walk to the shop at 7am seemed like a mountain too high for me to climb.

So I did what any self-respecting housewife would do in this situation: I texted my neighbour, and asked if I could borrow some.

“I’m desperate for a cup of tea,” I said, appealing to her British sensibilities.

She understood and, quick as she could, popped round in her jammies – an action which, I feel, is much more radical for a distinguished English lady than one of my American girlfriends – with her milky offering.  I thanked her profusely and took it to the kitchen, where I discovered the vessel she’d used made me happier than the milk itself:

I don’t think I have to say that I poured the milk into something else and used this cup for my morning tea (milk, one sugar). It was begging for it, really.

One response to “A cup of human kindness”

  1. How awesome! I wonder what she was thinking when she put the milk in THAT cup for you to use!

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