A pot of tea? Do you want that with first or second degree burns?
Why...
Is enjoying tea time now an obstacle course filled with things that want to kill us or poison us? Firstly take the stainless steel teapot so beloved by British Rail and tea rooms full of characters from an Agatha Christie thriller? Where do we start? Well, the steel perfectly transmits the heat to the handle, so it’s bloody hot. In addition this handle so close to the pot you can hardly hold it. Brilliant! Even with a napkin wrapped round the handle to prevent baked fingers, my knuckles still brush against the pot giving me the first set of burns. The second set follow soon after as I drop the damn pot with a yell, blowing on my burnt knuckles. The spilled tea then obligingly runs along the table into my lap causing more burns on a very delicate part of the anatomy. After hobbling off to the bathroom to put a cold compress on my nether regions, the waitress cleans up the mess and returns with yet another hand-grenade of tea.
