Grateful for Ovaltine. via /r/gratitude

Saw it at a grocery store and it took me back 25 years, to when my grandmother used to make it for us in her old house that she inherited from her mother. She lived in that house her whole life, even saw WWII planes fly over from the roof. I imagine she even inherited the cast iron pot she used to boil the milk. Everything in there was so old, yet immaculate. My grandmother was a simple woman who knew the value of things.

So now I have a can of Ovaltine next to my kettle. Doesn't look any different from the can my grandmother used to have in her cabinet. Yuri, the one-eyed kitten I just adopted, rubbed in figures of eight against my legs as I scanned the can for the instructions and right now, sugary steam is flowing from the mug into my nostrils as I read 'The Brothers Karamazov', one of the greatest literary works of all time.

My life isn't perfect, but I'm grateful for this moment.