Storm in a teacup: memoirs of a tea lady. Chapter 18

My marriage to Teddy had now turned into the proverbial storm in a teacup.  Teddy and I argued day and night as to which was the better brew—tea or coffee.  In the end we went and saw Wattlebird’s very own high priestess of conflict resolution — Miss Beetleheart —a world authority on marriage, and who also happened to moonlight as a spray tan technician when business was slow.

                As we sat in Miss Beatleheart’s   office-cum–spray-tan-salon, she listened; eyes squinted in concentration as we spoke.

                Teddy talked about coffee. I talked about my career as a tea lady and how it was impossible for me to be married to someone whose recently announced ambition in life was to own his very own coffee plantation.

                                Miss Beetleheart tut-tutted.

                I couldn’t help but notice Miss Beetleheart unusual colouring. It seemed that our world authority had spray tanned herself a mango-orangey colour. Not that I minded, as it matched her silver grey hair.

Unfortunately, my dismay at having being duped into marrying a hardnosed coffee fanatic got the better of me and I dissolved into tears.

                Ms Beetleheart promptly handed me a bunch of tissues. ‘A sorry state of affairs,’ she mourned. ‘It’s best you part. I can see no resolution. Tea is tea. Coffee is coffee.’

                And so, Teddy and I parted.  But not before we’d both been given a complimentary free spray tan by Miss Beetleheart.

                Teddy, still in his all-body plaster cast, ended up looking like a carrot.

                I ended up looking like an pumpkin .