A tale of the world's longest goodbyes.
Story and art created by Omed & Goli Habib
A limited first printing. We are printing only as many as we can stand behind. Pre-ordering guarantees your copy — once the first printing is claimed, the next will be a while.
Publication date — August 29, 2026.
Pre-orders ship on publication. Ships within the United States; shipping calculated at checkout.
Where the money goes. A portion of the proceeds goes to the House of Afghanistan. A purchase is not a tax-deductible donation — to give, visit Support.
Arman knows exactly what happens when Baba says “ok, we should get going.” Absolutely nothing.
First there's one more tea. Then somebody turns the music up, and there's one more dance. Then everyone crowds into the kitchen to pack leftovers, because no guest has ever been allowed to leave this house empty-handed. Then the stories start over. Then the kisses go around the room, twice. Then the shoes finally go on, and everyone stands in the doorway for another twenty minutes, talking about how they really should be going.
And then, somehow, the whole family ends up standing in the driveway in their socks, still talking.
At five years old, Arman has become an expert on the longest goodbye in the world. He can predict every stage of it. He knows the grown-ups will insist nobody walk them out, and then everybody walks them out. He knows the car doors will open and stay open. And he has figured out the secret hiding inside all of it: every single delay is ten more minutes to play.
With every page turn, the reader is certain: surely now they're leaving. Nope. One more tea.
Told from inside a modern home where the teapot never stops, One More Tea turns a beloved family ritual into a page-turning joke that children and grandparents will recognize instantly. Kids will love that stalling is the whole point. The grown-ups reading aloud will recognize their own relatives on every page — and may notice something underneath the comedy: a goodbye only takes three hours when nobody in the room wants it to end.
For every family whose goodbyes take two hours, and every child who has ever begged for ten more minutes.
