Mugs

Mugs? No I am not referring to Johnson and his fawning Tory cabinet but to the mugs in our kitchen cupboard. Literal ceramic drinking vessels. Those kind of mugs.

Can you guess how many mugs we had in our cupboard?  Well let me tell you. Twenty eight... thirty one... thirty four! That's how many. Thirty four! We may not be rich in paper money but we are rich in mugs. That is sufficient mugs for two football teams with all the named substitutes too.

Putting mugs in the cupboard has sometimes proven to be  a dangerous balancing act. In the past couple of years, two mugs plunged to their untimely deaths. You get attached to familiar mugs. The death of a favourite mug can be very distressing

Well yesterday I decided to grasp the bull by the horns or more accurately - the mugs by the handles. I lined them all up, forgetting that a few were still hiding in the dishwasher. It was time to cull them. 

We aimed to reduce our mug collection by eight. It was like picking school football teams. Shirley chose one then I picked the next  and so on until there were eight sorry mugs left behind. They had reached the end of the line. Among them were four Hull City mugs - somehow fading because of repeated visits to the dishwasher. One of them was emblazoned with "Pride of Yorkshire" reminding me of the years, earlier this century when my beloved Tigers were undoubtedly Yorkshire's top team.

Having just twenty six mugs will be a much easier situation to handle. Normally there are just two people in this house so thirteen mugs each should, I hope, cover all of our tea and coffee drinking demands. If not, we will just have to go out and buy extra mugs.

If any friends or family are reading this blogpost, please do not give us any more mugs as gifts. If you do, then shortly thereafter you  will probably find them bouncing off the tops of your heads. Don't be a mug! Don't give a mug!



from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/3ed25pm

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