Hildie's Tea Party

Four-year-old Hildie Lewis would have a tea party this evening if it was the last thing she would do. She cheerfully hummed “Polly Put the Kettle On” while facilitating pandemonium in the kitchen. 

Inspired by a friend’s tea party birthday earlier in the month, Hildie had been obsessed with the idea of them. Not many days since passed without her making some conversation about tea parties to anyone who would listen. They would be improvised into her bedtime stories if they didn’t already have one. “Polly” and “I’m a Little Teapot” became her favorite songs of the moment. If she went on errands with her parents, she’d ask about going to “tea places”. After a few trips, she figured out she preferred tea gardens or rooms to shops and became enamored with tea sets. Suddenly needing one of her own, her parents agreed to provide as long as she was a really good girl this week. And of course, she was. Every day in that stretch, she envisioned a whole event with her mom and dad once she was in possession of a set. 

She came home from nursery school to a plastic, pink-hued collection of cups, saucers, a serving tray, and sweets in a box nearly as big as her! However, her parents couldn’t be around for the evening. As on-call first responders to a developing emergency, they only had time to bring her home and arrange for a sitter. After departing, she sulked at their absence for a bit but renewed her determination in her dream of the week. She just needed to get the tea set out of the packaging first. 

“Hey, Miss!” She asked, hauling the box up to her teenage sitter.  “Can you help me open my tea set, please?”

“Oh, sure, love. In a minute,” The teen answered without looking up from her phone. 

Hildie obliged until the wait drug on too long for her. Mom and Dad were always calling her a big girl and encouraging her to do things herself, so she figured she’d undertake this task as the big girl they were teaching her to be. After toting the box back to her room, she plodded into the kitchen in search of the scissors. Scissors she was not supposed to use without adult help, but an adult was at least around, she reasoned. 

She located them after rummaging in the drawers but felt shocked seeing them up close. Unlike the safety scissors at nursery school, they had straight pointy blades, black handles, and looked as long as her arm. But she wanted to be a big girl and see this through. She definitely walked them to her room while holding the ends downward like she had learned to do. She had to be safe. Despite all the awkward handling of the big scissors, Hildie blessedly did not hurt herself. After several minutes, she wrested the tea set free from the cardboard and plastic. 

Now, how do I make tea? Hildie was puzzled when she held the teapot in her hands. For all her interest in tea parties lately, preparing the drink itself was one thing she hadn’t explored yet. 

Well, it’s watery... She thought hard to herself, trying to imagine how to get it started. And there’s usually flavor stuff in it. There’s lots of flavor stuff in the kitchen!  

With her idea in mind, she took the tea dishes and some of her dolls to the kitchen. It would be easier to serve them if they were close, she thought. Humming all the while, she organized them to her liking along the counter before attempting to make the beverage. 

She pushed a dining chair up so she could better reach the sink. After overflowing her teapot, she distributed water to her party guests, sloshing water on them, the counter, and herself. She ended up making a few trips back to the faucet. When everyone had water, she climbed all the way up on the counter to look for the “flavor stuff” in the top cabinets, doing her best to mind where her toys sat. A couple tipped and tumbled. Eventually, she settled on the cabinet with what she thought she needed, the cabinet full of cooking and baking goods.

“What kind does everyone want?” Hildie asked over her shoulder, addressing her party attendees. She listened to their imaginary requests and gathered what spices and shakers she could manage. She tiptoed back across the counter, upsetting a few more toys along the way. Some of the dry goods slipped from her grip as she lowered herself into the chair and hopped back onto the floor. What she still had on hand she unloaded into the seat before tending to her guests individually. 

Mr. Bear wanted red tea, which Hildie made with the cinnamon and chile flakes. The Beanie Baby cat wanted black tea, made from pepper. She concocted Bluey and Bingo’s yellow tea from the turmeric. The Barbie Sisters wanted “seedy tea”, that Hildie created from basil, coriander, and fennel seed. 

“What’s that?” One of the sisters reminded Hildie of something important while she prepared the drinks. “Oh! You’re right! The tea needs to be hot! How do I do that though?” 

She glanced around the kitchen for her options. She wasn’t sure which knobs on the stove to use. She was afraid she’d turn the tap handles too far and burn herself on the water that would come out. All that left was the microwave. The microwave seemed easy to use. She’d watched Mum and Dad use it plenty of times! She gathered as many cups as she could fit inside, all the while spiced water still sloshed everywhere. She jabbed some buttons and watched her tea set rotate inside. However, her intrigue and pleasure changed to horror as the heat started to warp her tea cups.

 Hildie screamed and started crying, finally drawing the babysitter’s attention into the kitchen. The sitter was additionally shocked by the disaster zone the kitchen had become, but she had to protect and settle her charge down first. The sitter moved Hildie across to the dining room and unplugged the microwave. Inspecting the inside after some steam belched out, the tea cups appeared to be the only casualty. 

“My tea set!” Hildie wailed harder at the sight.

 “Ohh, I’m sorry, love,” The sitter crossed back to comfort her, blocking her view of the carnage. “I don’t think that tea set was made for the microwave.”

She carried Hildie to her room and sat her on her bed. She looked her over and found no obvious signs of physical hurt or injury. Satisfied for the moment, she wrapped Hildie in a blanket and offered a juice box she took from the fridge. “Stay right here and catch your breath,” She soothed. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.” She left to deal with the mess in the kitchen. 

With Hildie out of sight, she first collected the disfigured tea things into a trash bag. After a few more minutes of sweeping and scrubbing, Hildie’s crying had turned into soft sobs. Between her quiet heaves, the juice box gurgled, signaling her drink was almost gone. Finally, she collected the unscathed toys from the kitchen and returned to the child’s room. 

“What were you doing in the kitchen?” The sitter asked, taking a seat next to Hildie.

“I really wanted to have a tea party today!” The little girl whimpered. “That was my new playset! I got it for being good all week!” 

“I see,” The sitter noted. 

“Are the tea cups ok?” Hildie worried.

“Like I said a minute ago,” The sitter sympathized and shook her head, “They were no match for the microwave.” 

“Am I in trouble?” Another wave of emotion started to build up in the four-year-old.

“No! No! No!” The sitter reassured, putting an arm around her. “It was just an accident at best. Mummy and Daddy might want a talk later, but you aren’t in trouble with me, love.” She drew Hildie close, caressing her arm. “I’m just glad we weren’t in danger, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Hildie sniffled, calming down once more.  

“Did you know you were making tea with pepper?” The sitter pointed out, hoping the observation was as funny to her charge.

“What?!” Hildie chirped out with a laugh. 

“Do you want to try another tea party, with me doing all the cooking this time?” The sitter suggested after they had carried on for a moment. 

“Yeah!” Hildie hopped off the bed, slid out of the blanket, and followed the sitter back to the kitchen for another tea party that went off without a hitch this time. 

The Lewis’ returned home after Hildie was put to bed. When the sitter told them of the tea party mishap, they did feel a small pang of remorse for missing something their daughter had looked forward to all week. Indeed, they had a talk with their daughter the next day about playing in the kitchen. Later, they replaced her tea set and finally had their party together.