Today's kid quote that made me laugh...

"Can I have the old-fashioned cold hot tea?"

We have a Brit in our house and his name is Anderson.

From the time he was teensy, he had a hunch that what Scott and I were cradling in those ceramic coffee mugs was liquid of the Gods. He toddled around begging and then begging some more, the little warm-bevvie FEEN (who could blame?). We couldn't give him COFFEE, what with all that fake, sugar-laced creamer. Oh, and the CAFFEINE.

So, when he raged on at the onset of every single coffee indulgence for us adults, we settled for a tea bribe. We would get mugs with the real-leaded stuff. He would get a mug of tea. Except I wasn't ABOUT to make tea every time, so I settled on the Costco-bought premade Oregon chai liquid tea. In goes the mix. In goes the milk. In it goes in the microwave. Whaalaa. Temper-tantrum free mornings.

At some point he decided he preferred it cold. Fine by me. One less step.

Hence the name, "Cold Hot Tea."

But every once in awhile, I make a terrible mistake of not estimating my milk supply right and we... God forbid... RUN OUT.

You can't feed a kid concentrated chai tea mix and have any feelings of worth about yourself.

And they'd smell you out if you tried to dilute with water.

The jerks.

P.S. Campbell's apart of the Cold Hot Tea tradition now, too. Have you heard her shriek?

Now, since I do sometimes like to mix up my caffeine I will occasionally have a cup of hot tea in the afternoons, and Anderson has caught on to those mysterious baggie thingies that ink like an octopus in a mug and seem to produce a warm beverage as well. He asked once and I said, "That's how you make tea 'the old fashioned way.'" And by "old fashioned" I meant that prior to dunking the store bought, factory-made tea bag in my mug, I warmed the clean, filtered tap water in a mug in a modern microwave, not boiling it over the stovetop or - say - an open fire, mind you.

But he associated old fashioned with needing-no-milk.

So today when we were in one of those no-milk situations and I said I couldn't make it... too bad, so sad... he protested, "Yeah but, can I have the old-fashioned cold hot tea?"

Sure kid. I'll steep a damn tea bag. Add honey. Then put the freakin mug in the fridge. Then serve the old fashioned cold hot tea to you... only to have you turn your nose at the more flavorful leafy REALness of it and say, "This doesn't taste like my REAL cold hot tea!"

I've created a (read: TWO) monster(s).