Once upon a Tuesday at a chocolate factory.

Right in the heart of the windy city of Chicago stands a humble dark brown building. It’s a building you will never notice but there’s something about it that I will never forget. 

Every morning pure white speckles of snow would gracefully drift down on the street lights, eventually settling down on the rushing beige and black coats. And about that same time a delicious whiff of melting bars of chocolate would make it’s way into the dark alleys of our tiny noses. 

So, one morning little I & I polished our noses, wore our snow boots and decided to follow that distinctive aroma.

No GPS, no Google maps just our pink, cold noses for directions.

And there we were standing happy and hungry in front of the doors of that dark brown building. A chocolate factory to be precise. The church bell gonged eight times as if it were a drum roll for us to begin our breakfast of pure decadent chocolate. 

Little I would have imagined herself in her blue stripped swimming costume sliding into a pool of melting chocolate when I told her that we are going to see and eat lots and lots of chocolate.

As we were about to slide down into that inviting pool, a lady at the door informed us that the chocolate factory was no longer open for public visits. 

‘But why?’, asked my disappointed voice and little I’s eyes.

The words that came out of that polite lady’s mouth yanked me out my deliciously dreamy pool of chocolate.

‘A lady slipped into one of our mixing tubs while taking pictures’, she said.

Suddenly, I felt the chills of the cold wind and I saw someone else in our pool.

I tried to yank little I out of that pool with that stranger lying in it, but little I held strongly onto the sides screaming ‘chocolate’!

And once again, the next morning as a fresh batch of snow flakes gracefully settled down on car tops, a fresh aroma of melted chocolate obediently made it’s way into the dark alleys of our tiny noses.

And all I wanted to be was that lady who fell into that mixing tub of chocolate, into our dreamy pool. This time with a two and a half year old and a stroller.

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