Mom's Tea in 99 Words

My dad unwraps one tea bag, making sure the tag is hanging free outside the mug. His fingers feel the way. He pours carefully but still gets bubbling hot water on the cabinet, then turns around toward the refrigerator to get the milk. My mother loves a pitcher on the side, a tray, and a sugar bowl even though she doesn't take sugar. He blurbs milk directly from a plastic jug. Walking a tightrope, he brings the tea to the table and lets her know it's ready. Nu—tea! He's been doing this (not always this slowly) for 61 years.

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