Ruby was walking beside me holding my hand. We were on our way to the subway, she loves the subway, last Saturday and were chatting. Ever since she was little she has enjoyed me telling her 'Ruby stories' of things that had happened or that we'd all done together. Belinda and Susan may remember watching me tell a Ruby story, while holding Ruby, during their visit to us up at the hotel in Gravenhurst - they can attest to the fact that Rubes gets totally lost in the story. Well, she's older now, 6, and she still likes the stories. The 'dinosaur poo' story is one of her least favourite favourites. As we travelled north, after the two girls had raced to push the button to call the elevator and then the push the button inside the elevator, I thought I'd tell her a story about sharing. I asked her if she wanted to hear a new Ruby story, one I hadn't told her before. She eagerly agreed.
I told her about one Christmas when we were all together, her Mom and Dad and sister and brother. Joe and I had picked up a pair of beautiful cowgirl boots at a store in Manchester's Trafford Centre. We'd carted it all over England looking forward to giving it to her at Christmas. Well, the gifts were all opened and there was one left, the cowgirl boots. She opened them and saw them and actually gasped! She hugged them before trying them on and finding that they were too small. She looked at them, hugged them again, and walked over and gave them to Sadie saying that they would fit her little sister and that she thought that Sadie would love them too. She was as collected as she could have been - and she went on to have a wonderful fun time, all of us together.
When I finished the story, I told her how proud I was of her that day, she was so kind and so generous to her sister. That's the way sisters should treat sisters.
Once I was done she said, "I know what you are doing."
I was caught.CAUGHT!!
She then said, I want to tell YOU a Ruby story. I eagerly agreed. Then she told me a long story involving a laundry basket, a swinging door, her toenail accidentally being ripped off and blood, lots and lots of blood. She told the story like a practised story teller. She modulated her voice, she had dramatic pauses, she was working to bring the story alive. Without wanting to seem immodest, I'm pretty good at telling a story, I'd told her a lot of stories, she was working to really TELL the story the way I tell a story. It was awesome to listen to. Ruby telling me her first purposeful Ruby story.
"Wow," I said.
"That's a good story," she said, "there's blood in it."
Passersby must have wondered what was going on seeing a big old man and a tiny little girl laughing wildly while crossing the intersection.
So there you are folks, finally, a blog with blood in it! Some of you must have been waiting.