Once upon a time there was a little girl named Ruby G. Sometimes called Rube-a-dube or Ruby Ruby Ruby Ruby or (I can't help it this just comes out of my mouth) Rubalicious. This was the winter of birthday number four, before the snow gods decided to drop ten feet of white slush on Cold Spring, and we decided to take this green lovin’ kid to an awesome lime retro gas station. And she stomped like a dinosaur and pumped gas and watched yellow balloons soar until her mama and I began to worry that keeping an almost four-year-old outdoors in prolonged frigid temps might constitute child endangerment. So we cuddled her up and whisked her back to her toasty (green) bedroom and plied her with a lolli the size of her head. And Ruby lived happily ever after.
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