One day, my mom called all three of my sisters and me into the living room  “As you already know, Hawaii has been fun, but it's too expensive,” my mom said, “In two weeks we'll be moving to Detroit, Michigan.” I was particularly angry. Not only had we already been in school for a month, but of all the places to live, my mom had to pick Michigan.  Earlier on, in our other discussions, we had talked about moving back to Utah, where my family lived while we sold our house in Colorado to move to Kauai, Hawaii. My heart was set on going back to Utah. In Utah, I remember the beautiful mountains reaching high above the clouds. Utah is where I learned to ride a bike. Utah is where I thought I would feel most at home. I didn't have too many memories of Michigan. Just the few times I went there for family reunions. “We'll be living with Grandma and Grandpa.” my mom continued “It'll be good for you to know them. After all, they are your only grandparents.” This kinda worried me. For some odd reason, I was pretty scared of my grandparents.
Two weeks later, we got off the airplane to the freezing cold... Or more like what I thought was cold. It was about seventy degrees but it was cold enough to make me put on everything I had till I get get to the car. Once we got to the house, I was a little frightened. First off, I would be sharing not just a room, but a bed with my little sister, Maddie. The room was puke green with a queen size bed that took up the entire room. Secondly, I barely knew my grandpa's name. There was a whole list of things I was terrified of. That night, I didn’t sleep very well at all. I remember hearing the train at midnight and waking up at nine in the morning to my mom screaming in a sing-song voice “Wake up, wake up, wake up! Time to get back on a school schedule. I moaned and groaned. “This was really happening.” I thought as my heart sank.
I slugged my way downstairs. My mom had made chocolate chip pancakes. “Probably just to try and smooth things over.” I thought. Maddie, who was 5 at the time, didn't even seem to care as she ate. Seeing her chocolate mustache almost made me disgusted. “The traitor. Of course she takes mom's side.” Then, I smelt the pancakes. I decided I would eat. It smelt pretty good after all! Before I could finish and sulk back to my room, a giant mug with the words “Hershey Company” like a Hershey Chocolate Bar wrapper, was put in front of me. In the mug was a mountain of whipped cream. “Grandma, why did give me a cup of whipped cream?” I asked. “Bailey, I'm sure there’s some hot chocolate buried somewhere underneath the whipped cream.” my grandpa responded for my grandma. I took the cup in my hands and took a sip. “Not half bad.” I thought. I went to take another sip but it turned into me just chugging half the cup. When I came up for air, everyone was laughing. “I'm guessing you like it?!” my grandma said with a  huge smile on her face.
That first sip of hot cocoa led to 5 years of experiences. My grandma and I would have a cup of hot cocoa in the morning everyday before I left for school. That gave us time to talk. Time to bond. Eventually, my grandma taught me her recipe. Since then, my grandma and I took turns making hot chocolate. When went on trips, we would get our cocoa by any means. If it meant going to Starbucks, we went to Starbucks. If it meant going to the nearest grocery store to buy all the ingredients, we did it.
That first sip of cocoa also led to me feeling comfortable with not just my grandma, but with Michigan. I went back to school feeling a little less anxious, and a little warmer. Hot coca holds memories for me. Hot coca is my teddy bear. My comfort item. It's my reminder that all change isn't bad. Even though I don’t live with my grandparents anymore, hot coco will always be in my heart.