Cups

I used to be a big tea drinker.  It was almost like growing up coffee was not considered.  It was always tea.  Everyone in the family drank it.  Lots of it really.  It was a joke that we drank so much did we need to have it intravenously when we were not drinking it out of a cup.
When I was a teenager (yes there was a time.  Maybe we had not long emerged from caves but I do remember it) Mum had a guest over.  She made a cup of tea for each of us.  I was in the kitchen.  Unbeknown to mum he had put salt in my cup rather than sugar.  She did wonder at the time why such a strange sound was emerging from the kitchen.  I am glad to say I have not had that experience again though.
All that has changed now.  Coffee is the go.  I have reduced my sugar intake but I still like it with milk.  I can drink coffee without sugar and do on occasions but when I can I have it with sugar.
When I say all that has changed upon reflection not all that has changed.  One thing that has not changed is I still have it in a cup.  Always there has been a favourite cup.  A cup I considered my cup.
At one point the doctor wanted to know how big my cup was.  I knew it was pretty big as far as cups went.  It ended up holding such a volume that what ever the doctor was looking for his comment was “that would do it.”
My bro has a real thing about cleanliness.  I deliberately gave him a ceramic cup one time that had a fly impression that was painted and on the bottom of the cup.  I laugh to myself every time when I think of his reaction on reaching the bottom of the cup.  He looked inside it incredulously and deposited it on the floor in the middle of the room.  In one movement.
At work I used to keep my cup really dirty.  A high up commented one time on how dirty the cup was and I told him I keep it that was as no-one steals a really dirty cup.  Worked for me anyway.  No one ever stole my cup.
The one I use at home these days has a cartoon on it.  Both Merril and I got one done at the same time.  We were both into a cartoon strip at the time called “Eric the Circle.”  It was in the afternoon paper.  Readers could send their drawings into the site and one from someone was chosen each day to be published in the paper.  Both Merril and I had a number published.  My cup shows mum and dad circle looking at an ultrasound and the comment was they could still not tell if it was a boy or girl circle.
Some things don’t change.  I could lap my tea or drink it out of my hands.  But I prefer a cup.