When I was five, I received a little tea set from my grandparents for Christmas. I saved it with the intention of letting my own kids play with it, but since my own kids seem to have a knack for breaking things, it's just been sitting in a box in the basement. This week, Emma finally wore me down with her begging and her promises to take super extra special care of it.
I gave it to her right before Noah's nap so that she would have something to do while I spent who-knows-how-long getting him to sleep, and also so he - the primary destroyer of everything - would not be around while it was in use. After he was asleep, I came back to the living room to find a lovely tea party all prepared for us. Is there any better tea party fare than grapes and roasted edamame? I think not.I guess I wouldn't really know though, because I apparently have a lot to learn about tea parties. When I took my first sip of tea, Emma shook her head at me disapprovingly. "Oh, mommy," she sighed. "Don't you know that people at tea parties are supposed to hold their pinkies out?" Oh. Right.
Also, in case anyone is wondering about the mice, I'm happy to say that they are gone. When the exterminator came, he told me it could take two or three weeks for us to notice a difference, which sort of seemed like a rip-off to me. Luckily, we have not noticed any evidence of the mice - no scratching in the kitchen, no fluff on the oven door, no mouse poop, no actual mice - since the day the exterminator was here. I'm pretty sure they were gone almost immediately, which makes the exterminator worth every single penny we paid him!