Sandpaper
Uncle Frits makes a somewhat unfortunate comment. What would Aunt Coby think of that?
A tea cap? Did she hear that right? Aunt Coby takes a breath. Compare her fashionable, self-knitted headgear with a tea cap? How does Uncle Frits get to that?? Is there sometimes a stitch loose with her husband that he knows how to make such rather backfire remarks?
Her face, which has turned pale for a moment, begins to turn spotty red, her frown deepens, and her eyes begin to flame. Her temporarily paralysed speech ability is almost coming back into action.
Uncle Frits now recognizes all the signs of an imminent thunderstorm with lightning strikes (if it remains at that) in his immediate vicinity and, for the sake of much needed safety, tries to soften the sharpest sides a bit: 'But believe me, it would be a very beautiful and warm tea cap!'
A softening that feels like coarse sandpaper, that may be obvious.
