I'll Never Be Too Old For This Stuff

Last night was a really good night.

I had an essay due and when I got it finished - the snow ball fight was on! The odds were rather unfair because Swedish Sebastian is a Snow Ball Fight General. Austrian Sebastian wore his rugby cleats. I'm just a little sister so I was prepared to get the brunt end of most of the snow balls. I have terrible aim and not enough strength to rub someone's face in the snow. I had to rely on dodging, time outs, sneak attacks, looking innocent, and playing one Sebastian against the other. I also didn't have any gloves so I'd pick up a snow ball made and thrown by one of the sebastians and toss it. Then I'd have to let my hands warm before finding another dud snow ball.

It made me miss my brothers quite a lot. I imagined them here playing in the snow with us and I remembered how we used to build snow forts and go sledding and push each other down the hill in front of our house in South Bend. And like last night, I'd spend most of my time not really playing, but just running around pleased beyond belief to be hanging out with my brothers, even if I was rubbish at snow ball fights, even if I got creamed continuously because I'm an easy target.

The snow ball fight ended in a bloody nose: My bloody nose. I'd grabbed Austrian Sebastian from behind and was rubbing a fist full of snow in his face when Swedish Sebastian came up behind, I turned to look at him and was nailed point blank in the face. We had a good laugh and decided it was time for a little clean up and some hot cocoa.

After tending my bloody nose, we all went into the little kitchen with some music and began the cocoa making. I'd sent A. Seb to the store with 5 pounds to get cocoa and milk so that I could make my mom's famous cocoa for them. This cocoa was once described as "tasting like Christmas," and while decorating the Christmas tree the comment was made "This feels so good, it's like drinking Sarah's Mom's hot chocolate."

Usually It's easiest to make individual servings in individual mugs in the microwave, but since it was half 11 and the only microwave on campus was already locked up, I had to make it on the stove. I wasn't so worried about cooking the milk, but the chocolate paste that had to be heated. It's a very delicate process and if you burn it, you'll ruin the whole taste. I couldn't call my mom and have her talk me through it like I would have done at UIndy so I had to cast my mind way back to when she'd make a 5 person serving on the stove.

It turned out perfectly. The chocolate was perfectly heated, the milk was perfectly heated, the chocolate to milk ratio was perfect, the taste was perfect. The company was perfect. The listening to jazz music for the better part of an hour was perfect and once again I had been able to share my most prized recipe with friends.

The hot cocoa tastes differently when you cook it on the stove. Now, I don't know if that's because it actually changes the taste, or if there's something about taking the careful attentive time to heat and mix it while others are keeping you company, waiting for the treat they know is coming soon. Either way, it's just one of those things to really relish in.