“Hey Mom,” said five year old, Freddy. “I’m cold.”
“Yes,” said Mom. “It is very cold today. Come here and sit by the fire and get warmed up.”
“Okay,” said Freddy.
Freddy grabbed his blanket and sat in front of the fireplace.
“How does that feel, now?” asked Mom.
“Well, I feel a little better,” said Freddy. “But I’m still cold.”
Mom put her knitting down and put her hand on Freddy’s forehead.
“Freddy!” exclaimed Mom. “You’re burning up! You’ve got a fever.”
“Oh,” said Freddy. “In that case, I need Daddy.”
“Daddy’s at work,” said Mommy. “What do you need Daddy for?”
“Because,” said Freddy. “The last time I had a fever, Daddy made me some hot chocolate and it made me feel better.”
“Hot chocolate,” said Mom. “I can make you some.”
“No,” said Freddy. “Daddy is the only one that can make me my special hot chocolate.”
“Well,” said Mom. “Why don’t you let me try and if it doesn’t turn out like Daddy’s, then when he comes home, I’ll get him to make you his special hot chocolate.”
“Oh alright,” said Freddy, reluctantly.
Mom went into the kitchen and prepared some hot chocolate. When it was finished, she took a nice hot mug of it out to Freddy. He took a sip of it.
“Mom,” he said. “This is good, but it doesn’t quite taste like Daddy’s.”
“Well,” said Mom. “What did Daddy put in it to make it taste so good?”
“I don’t know,” said Freddy. “But it sure made me feel better.”
Mom took the mug back into the kitchen and added some marshmallows to it. She handed it back to Freddy.
“No,” said Freddy after he took another sip. “This isn’t the same hot chocolate as what Daddy makes.”
Again, Mom went back to the kitchen. This time she added some mint extract to the mug.
“No,” said Freddy, again. “It still doesn’t taste like Daddy’s hot chocolate.”
“Well Freddy,” said Mom. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
Just then, Daddy walked through the front door.
“Daddy!” exclaimed Freddy. “I have a fever.”
“Oh no!” exclaimed Daddy. “I know just what to do to fix that up.”
Daddy set his coat on the couch and went into the kitchen.
“Here you go Freddy,” said Daddy a few minutes later, handing a fresh mug of hot chocolate to him.
Freddy took a sip.
“Thanks Daddy!” exclaimed Freddy. “That’s more like it.”
A few minutes later, Freddy felt much better.
“What did you put in his hot chocolate?” Mom asked Daddy later that evening, while she was cleaning up the kitchen.
“Nothing,” said Daddy. “Why?”
“Because,” said Mom. “I tried putting all kinds of things in his hot chocolate, but he wouldn’t drink it.”
“Well,” said Daddy. “Maybe I have a magic touch.”
“Maybe,” said Mom.
Mom cleaned off the kitchen counter and found a jar of honey sitting out.
“Oh,” said Mom, holding up the honey jar. “So this is your magic touch.”
“Well,” blushed Daddy. “The honey might have had something to do with it.”
Moral of this Story: