Tea Party

This afternoon we had a tea party. I noticed how much our tea parties resemble a group of thirsty teenagers who just got their hands on a bunch of booze.

We cheers almost every time we sip. Sometimes we cheers before and after a sip. George likes to shout, "Sip, now!"
Then we all do a quick cheers, and knock back a sip of mint tea. Hardly a few seconds pass before George insists on another group cheers-sip-cheers.
By the time our tea cups were running low on tea, the kids started getting rowdy with their cheers. I had to constantly remind them that they will break our most coveted sentimental souvenirs, our coffee cup collection, by smashing them together like were on our fifth hour at Oktoberfest.
When Kiki finished her cup, she wiped her lips with her forearm, burped loudly and said, "excuse me."
She peeled off her sun hat, and climbed out of her chair. She put her foot down, and said, "Were done here."
I wanted to relax some more, and keep drinking tea, but she wasn't going to allow it. "Get up, and wrap me and G into a burrito on my bed."
George pushed himself away from the table like he was springing off the wall of a lap pool. He ran into her room, and laid stiff on the comforter. She laid next to him, and we took on our new personas. I am Chips-And-Salsa, she is Carnitas and George is Beans.
"Wrap us up tight, Chips-And-Salsa. But do NOT cover Carnitas' or Beans' eyes," Kiki instructed.

Then I wrapped them up tight, with their eyes poking out of the comforter-tortilla, and pretended I was going to eat them for dinner.
A giant burrito is the best way to end a round of fast paced drinking, tea or otherwise.