Hot Chocolate

The thermometer is barely showing any red. All the doors and windows are sealed tight, and there’s a roaring fire.
It’s the perfect evening for hot chocolate.
The problem is, we don’t have any. Well, we’ve got chocolate flakes, but not enough milk to boil for the foamy kind.
We draw straws.
Short… short… short…
Long. Yeah, I drew the long straw, so I get to go out for the milk.
I bundle up with everything I’ve got, and I run out the door.
It’s only five minutes to the store and back.
Ten, if you forget your goddamned wallet.