This past week, I’ve become acquainted with three very “British” creature comforts, mainly because of the impending monthly visit of my, er, friend. (Why we call it that, I do not know. It is most definitely not my friend, as I never look forward to its company. Also, sorry if this is TMI. But it’s a fact of life. I’ll keep the details to a minimum.)
So on Tuesday, Day Two of what I had declared Bring My Lunch to Work Week in an effort to save money and skimp on calories, I was craving chocolate. Just a little something to sate my inner cocoa gene, which I most definitely have.
“Have you had buttons????” asked Rachel.
“Er, no. What are buttons?”
“Oh, they’re these cadbury chocolate circles that melt in your mouth. Do you like Cadbury?”
“Eh, I’m more fo a Hershey’s type of a girl.”
“Pshaw. You haven’t had buttons.”
And so that’s when Buttons and I become BFF.
They’re totally the type of treat that everyone eats in their own unique way, like, say, an Oreo or Sour Cabbage Patch Kids. (Red first!) I popped two in at one time, flat sides back-to-back and let them melt. Yum.
Then, of course, there’s the tea kettle. Every household has one. I had to go out and buy myself a drip coffee maker, but if I wanted tea, there was this bad boy!
While I do think it’s genius cause of its super speedy water boiling ways, and quite enjoyed its quick pour over a camomille bag to soothe my soul, I find it funny that the British make tea this way. Everything else seems so authentic and old school, yet they boil water electrically. No gas stove? No Little Teapot Short and Stout?
Speaking of old school, this now brings me to the final creature comfort that I got up close and real personal with recently: The Hot Water Bottle.
I recall Ellie saying she brought one with her to NYC, but when I first found this odd-looking rubber thing in my kitchen upon settling in, I scoffed it off as one of those weird things they use here, but I’d be leaving in the cupboard with the unused pots and pans.
And then I was doubled-over in pain at 5a.m., as I usually am once a month, thankfully during the night so I don’t have to excuse myself inappropriately from work or a dinner or anything else. (Actually, one time they came on in a yoga class, and I have to say, Child’s Pose had never felt so good. But then, when it happened again in the middle of the night and I decided to just sleep in Child’s Pose, I woke up barely able to feel my legs and with enough back pain for an emergency visit to the chiro.)
So, I hobbled to the kitchen, one eye open so as not to truly wake myself, used the aforementioned electric kettle to boil myself some water, filled that sucker and hobbled back to bed with it.
While it’s not exactly what I had in mind for a bed visitor at this point in the swap, it was heaven.
Well, maybe not heaven. But not the hell I was in before. If only I had thought of it hours earlier. Any smart Brit surely would have.