Pip was three years old, and he was an apprentice wizard. His hat was too big. It wobbled when he walked. Pip liked that. It made him feel extra wizardy.
Today, Pip had a very important job.
He was going to make calming magic tea.
“Tea,” Pip told his broom. “We will do tea.”
The broom did not talk, because brooms are shy. But it leaned a little, like it agreed.
Pip stood in his tiny kitchen. The kitchen was inside a friendly tower made of smooth purple stones. The window showed fluffy clouds drifting by like sleepy sheep.
On the table sat a little kettle. It was round and shiny. It had a face, because lots of things in this tower had faces.
The kettle blinked. “Hello, Pip.”
“Hello, Kettle,” said Pip. “We make calm tea.”
“Calm tea is my favorite tea,” said the kettle. “Please do not tickle me while I boil.”
“I will not,” said Pip, very serious.
Pip opened his recipe book. The book was also very friendly. It wore tiny glasses.
The book cleared its throat. “Ahem. For calming tea you need: warm water, one sleepy leaf, three giggle berries, and one teeny moon sugar. Stir with a spoon. Sing a soft song.”
Pip nodded. “I can do that.”
First, Pip poured water into the kettle. The kettle made a happy “glug-glug” sound.
Next, Pip looked for the sleepy leaf. He checked a jar.
The jar sneezed. “Achoo!”
Pip jumped a tiny bit. Then he giggled. “Bless you, Jar.”
“It is pepper,” said the jar. “Not sleepy.”
“No pepper,” said Pip. “Pepper is for soup.”
He checked another jar.
This jar yawned. “Yaaawn.”
“That sounds right,” Pip said.
Inside was one floppy green leaf with a little smile. Pip picked it up.
“Sleepy leaf,” he whispered.
The leaf gave a slow wiggle, like a small wave.
Pip put it in the kettle. Plop!
Now for the giggle berries.
Pip opened the berry basket. The berries bounced out like tiny purple balls.
Boing! Boing! Boing!
“Come back,” Pip said, not mad, just amused. “We need only three.”
One berry bounced onto Pip's nose.
Pip went cross-eyed to look at it. “Hello.”
The berry made a quiet “hee-hee” sound.
Pip laughed. “You are silly.”
He gently picked three berries and put them in his pocket. The rest could bounce. It was their hobby.
Then Pip needed moon sugar.
He opened the sugar tin. The tin hummed. “Mmm-mmm-mmm.”
Inside was not sugar.
Inside were socks.
Tiny socks. Sparkly socks. Stripy socks.
Pip blinked. “Socks?”
A sock popped up and said, “We are sweet!”
Pip smiled. “You are sweet, but you are not sugar.”
The recipe book coughed politely. “Moon sugar is in the star drawer.”
“Oh!” said Pip. “I forgot the star drawer.”
He pulled open a drawer with a star sticker. A little puff of glitter floated out and landed on his cheek.
Pip wiped it and accidentally made a glitter moustache.
The kettle giggled. “Nice moustache, Wizard Pip.”
Pip looked proud. “Thank you.”
In the drawer sat a tiny bowl of pale sugar that looked like soft moonlight.
Pip pinched a teeny bit. “Just a teeny moon sugar.”
He dropped it into the kettle. Ting!
Now it was time to stir.
Pip grabbed a spoon. The spoon was long and wooden and very helpful.
Pip stirred and stirred. Round and round.
The kettle began to warm. “Please do not tickle,” it warned.
“I am stirring, not tickling,” said Pip.
The spoon slipped.
Tickle-tickle-tickle!
The kettle started to laugh. “Hoo-hoo! Stop! I will bubble!”
Bloop! Bloop! Bloop!
The kettle bubbled so much that a little cloud puff popped out of the spout.
The cloud puff was shaped like a duck.
“Quack,” said the cloud duck.
Pip clapped softly. “A tea duck!”
The recipe book said, “That is normal-ish.”
The cloud duck floated in a circle. It quacked again, but in a gentle way, like it was saying, “It's okay.”
Pip took a deep breath. “We keep calm,” he told himself. “Calm tea is calm.”
He stopped stirring. He held the spoon very still.
The kettle took a slow breath too. The bubbles became tiny. The cloud duck became a little cloud dot and drifted back into the spout like it was going home.
“Better,” sighed the kettle.
“Now we sing,” said Pip.
He sang in a small voice.
“Soft and slow, warm and sweet,
Magic tea for sleepy feet.”
The tower seemed to listen. Even the bouncing berries went “boing” more quietly.
At last, the kettle said, “Ding!” like a bell.
Pip poured the tea into a cup. The tea was warm and pale gold. It smelled like bedtime hugs.
Pip took a sip. His eyes got big. “Mmm.”
The tea did not make him sleepy right away. It made him feel cozy. Like a blanket in his tummy.
The glitter moustache slid off his face and landed on the cup.
The cup said, “Excuse me. I am fancy now.”
Pip giggled. “You are very fancy.”
He poured a little tea into a tiny cup for the kettle too.
The kettle said, “Ahhh.” Its face looked peaceful.
Pip sat on a soft mat with his broom beside him.
“Well done,” said the recipe book.
Pip patted his big hat. “I did it,” he said. “No scary. Only silly.”
The cloud outside the window looked like a smiling sheep again.
Pip sipped his calming tea. He felt warm. He felt safe. He felt happy.
And in the friendly tower, everything was quiet, cozy, and just a little bit giggly.
