You Suit Me To a Tea

I love tea. And I am very particular about it. It has to be made in the exact correct way* or I get grumpy and then Dave makes fun of me ("The water is boiling! Why haven't you poured it yet?! POUR THE WATER!!!!"). We have a very sweet little tea set that I had to fight to get onto our wedding registry, and I use it every single day. For years, I used to carry extra teabags in my purse in case we traveled and I couldn't find my favorite tea. One of my favorite gifts ever is a bag of very nice tea leaves (warm and rich with a subtle smoky flavor).

I'm just saying. Tea is pretty great.**

Dave's first-view reaction: You suit me to a tea? ["Yeah. Does this make you want to drink tea?" Thinks for a moment.] No.


*Pour boiling water over teabag (honey optional), then add milk. NOT water and then add the teabag. And don't even get me started on adding milk before you add water.
**These Valentines won't all be just my favorite things, anthropomorphized and decorated with puns, mostly because in the '50s they didn't have iPhones or episodes of Park and Rec.

 Bonus points for including barely any red.
Seriously, at this point I'm basically just using nubs.

 Spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what kind of tea could have been in there.

Still not sure.

The original drawing made it clearer that the heart was supposed to be sewn, like with ruffles around the edges and a ribbon. This, folks, is what happens when it's late on a Sunday afternoon and I already have chalk up to my elbows.