“Hum, dee dum, dee dum…”
I gaze down at the book in my hands, but I’m not actually reading. I don’t exactly even feel like reading.
I think of the list I had written of “Things To Do In Summer When You’re Bored,” but not a single one of them appeal.
Oh well, I sigh. It’s inevitable to get bored once or twice during summer, after all, right?
Just then, my eyes flutter over to the other side of the room. Cupcake is sitting there on the sofa, and whatever she’s doing, it looks pretty interesting…
I decide to go over to take a look.
“Hey, Cocoa!” I greet my best friend cheerfully as she comes bounding towards me.
“Hello,” she replies, in an equally good mood. “I’m bored. What are you doing?”
“Me? Oh, I’m knitting.” I gaze down at the beautiful ball of white yarn in my hands, fingering my needles carefully.
“I didn’t know you could knit,” Cocoa says skeptically.
“I couldn’t, but I can now.” I wink. “Mimsy taught me. And whaddya know, I think I can teach you too! Want to try?”
“Um…okay?” she shrugs. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
I grab another ball of yarn and a slightly longer pair of knitting needles for her. “First,” I demonstrate, “you cast on. So you take a loop like this…”
“NO! Just loop like this…there you go! And take the other piece and put it in like that…no, not that way! oh, right…and then boom! Wait, no, you did it wrong.”
It goes like this before Cocoa FINALLY has made her first stitch.
I then demonstrate how to cast more stitches.
“No! Turn it around — oh wait, the other way. That’s the problem with having a short string — wait, you forgot to go through!”
Cocoa groans and moans and sighs before she finally gets the hang at this.
“I’m great at this!” She exclaims.
“Wait, no! Go above, not below!”
She accidentally unravels her stitches, and we start all over again. She’s only cast a few, with much trouble, before we suddenly turn to each other at exactly the same time.
And we both say it at the exact same time. “Actually, this is kind of boring.”
“Well, what else do you want to do?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t know…hey wait, why don’t we have a tea party?”
“A tea party? With two people? But we don’t have tea, or queen cakes, or cookies, or old English dresses…”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter, Cupcake! We can have one anyway!” She jumps up excitedly.
I get more excited about the idea as I think about it. “OK then. Let’s get stuff we need!”
“Perfect!” Cocoa exclaims as she rummages through the contents of an old tea set hidden under a couch. The teapot is just a bit big, but the plates and cups are suitable.
“Perfect!” I cry as I single-handedly push a vintage pink table out to the porch.
“Perfect!” Cocoa’s hand latches on a pretty pink teapot. There’s no tea, but there’s cold water, which is just as good, no?
“But what about the food???” We both wail at the same time.
We part ways to search.
Cocoa’s head peeps over the countertop, and her eyes gleam when she sees what’s cooling there.
“Perfect,” she nods, reaching out for the two freshly baked apple tarts. “Absolutely perfect.”
Soon, everything is perfectly set up! We choose the front porch to host our tea party, and it all looks perfect.
Of course, it can’t be legitimately called a tea party, since there’s no tea, but we gloat as we look through our glorious spread, anyway.
I immediately begin playing an elegant English lady. “Would you like some tea, Madame Margery?”
Cupcake catches on. “Of course, Madame Juliana, thank you. How are your children?”
“They are growing wonderfully,” I continue as I pour her tea. “And you?”
“As delightfully as ever, Madame, thank you for asking.”
We take a pause in our conversation as we stare at the food in front of us.
“Well, dear Madame Juliana, this apple tart smells delicious…”
I tentatively break it into four pieces. “It sure does. I must get the recipe from…er, Madame Huggies?”
We burst out laughing.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Cupcake raises her cup to her lips thirstily, with a slight eye roll.
Forgetting all about my fork, I raise a slice of the wondrous apple tart to my lips. The buttery crust melts into flaky goodness, and the cinnamon-y apples delights my taste buds.
We must be a wondrous sight to behold: a pair of stuffies sitting on the porch with a makeshift table and a feast for two, chatting about English dresses and children.
We don’t quite know how ladies at a tea party chatted, so we have some awkward conversation starters in the beginning.
“Have you heard of the latest puffed sleeve fashion?”
“Why, no I haven’t…”
“It’s a sight to behold,” Cupcake continues. “Lacy sleeves, puffed to the sky! Oh my, Madame.”
“It must be a sight…”
We continue devouring our apple tarts.
I raise my cup to my lips and drain the last bits of water. This time it’s Cupcake who asks. “Would you like a refill, Madame Juliana?”
“Certainly, Madame Margery!”
Cupcake just smiles and eagerly fills my cup to the top.
And so we just keep chatting…
and eating some more…
until the last drops of water are drained from our cups and the last crumbs of tart remain.
We then forget our manners and tilt the plates up to our faces, licking off the last of the crumbs.
“Well, um…” I began.
Cupcake is better at conversations. “It was delightful chatting with you today, Madame, and uh, I guess we can clean up now…”
It’s only two hours later that we suddenly hear Huggies’ voice wailing in the kitchen. “I thought I just had two apple tarts cooling on the counter? Where did they go?”