My Bobblehead

One of the first things she did on her first day was make herself a cup of tea.

She asked if she could, after seeing my cup of coffee. She picked out a tiny teacup and a sachet of green tea from the cupboard and poured hot water. She then stood with the cup in her hands and listened as I explained a few things about the office. She nodded along to my words. But she did so with so much enthusiasm that her whole entire body was nodding along, as well as the teacup in her hands, the tab hanging from the teabag fluttering with her move. And then tea was splashing in her little cup and dripping over her hands. I stopped talking and stared, and she realized her hands were wet.

"Oh!" She jumped. "I was nodding along so much that I spilled all over myself."

After she cleaned herself with tissue paper, and we decided to go to another room where I could continue filling her in with office rules. On the way, she continued to slosh her cup around and left a trail of water, even with a layer of tight saran wrap on top. I ran to the kitchen to grab some paper towels. When I came back she had already settled down at the table. She was looking around, trying to absorb her surroundings. And perched in her chair, she ceremoniously peeled off the drenched saran wrap, plopped that on the table and announced there wasn't much tea left. While balancing my own coffee and files, I quickly grabbed the wrap, wiped the table down and made sure she hadn't left any ugly tea rings under her cup.

The first day, the first hour...