Ice Jackets

I have caught a cold. Therefore just a short note today.

When we are in Ottawa, we always end up with Ruby riding in the back of our car. She likes the independence from her parents and, as she can be a real chatterbox, she likes a new audience. We talk about everything. From the kids at school to her plans for the future and everything in between. On Saturday she was wearing a 'ice jacket' a term we'd never heard, but in Ruby speak (and maybe in the larger world of fashion) it means a fleece vest. Her's is pink. That almost didn't need to be said.

She asked if we knew how they made 'ice jacket's'. We said that we didn't. She explained, simply as if to another child, that 'first they paint it pink, then they hang it up to dry.' A pause followed, she was ensuring we were understanding. 'Then they stuff in the filling to make it warm.' Done. I asked Ruby why the jacket didn't have arms.

She did me the honour of at least thinking about her response. Then she said, 'Because sleeves are very, very, difficult to make.'

Ruby did not understand why we both laughed so hard at her explanation but she gamely joined in the laughter.

This little phrase has now entered into the 'Dave and Joe' lexicon of communication.

Why is the world the way it is?

Because, dear readers, 'sleeves are very, very, difficult to make.'