Microwave Memories
I made tea this week to soothe a sore throat. While watching the 2-minute countdown, I mentally transported to an earlier time waiting for a mug of water to warm. I recall the soft glow of the microwave light.
As a kid, I'd occasionally get "the croup," a cough the internet compares to the sound of a seal's bark. The deep, apartment-waking bark is thankfully a distant memory. When I bark in the night, my mom would wake up and we'd meet in the kitchen to nuke a mug of water. Once done, my mom would add the Lipton tea bag and a shot of lemon juice from the always difficult-to-open bottle. The honey bear was quick to follow the exit of the tea bag. My mom would stir the concoction to cool before giving it to me to drink.
One of my favorite mugs was from Denny's. It had a frowny face when cold and changed to a smile when hot. Pure magic!
I remember the clinky noise of the spoon hitting the sides of the mug; the scraping of the bottom of the mug to incorporate the honey. The acerbic bite of the lemon juice.
Tea remains a sick beverage to me. This week I'm grateful for the memories of midnight tea time as a kid and the soothing relief of a warm beverage under the soft glow of the microwave night light.