For some reason, in Ireland, admitting that you like three sugars in your tea is somewhat like admitting you like Justin Bieber at a hipster party. People look at you with a kind of wonderfilled disgust, like its 1942 and your filthy habit represents half of their monthly sugar ration and that as a result, your preference is basically supporting the rise of the Nazi party.
As a result, I like to make the tea. It’s a pain in the ass but it comes with less casual judgement.
