When I was little, after a cold day like the one we’re having today, Mum would call my sister and I back inside the house. Slush pants soaked, boots soggy, cheeks red. We would climb the stairs to our rooms, toes still numb from the weather, and change into warm, comfy clothes. When we came back downstairs, Mum would have a hot mug of ribena waiting for us. I don’t know what it was about that stuff, but I swear it was magic! It warmed me up so fast, from the inside out. I think of my child hood, and I remember ribena. So weird.
Now, sitting in my Mum’s living room after running errands in the cold November rain (thank you G&R), I rest by the fire, she brings me a mug of ribena, and all of a sudden I’m six again.
It always has been, and always will be, the little things.