The Story of Ruby

So my mother is a little wacky-- all of you who know me know that. A wonderful, caring, yet particularly bizarra woman I have found my mom to be. To those who know not of her wackiness...I will explain.
Example #1: I get a call form mom proffessing the powers of this new workout video she has acquired. Its fun, fresh, and oh so affective. She has been doing it for weeks and has a brand new sense of confidence"What video is it?" I innocently ask. "Oh," she says "just something new. Do you want to come over adn we can do it together?" "But mom, what video is it? Is it Belly Dancing? Is it Tai Chi?""No...even better. It s Carmen Electra teaching you how to strip for your husband!!"
Silence......"Um Mom-- as fun as it would be to be stripping and dancing around the foundation polls in the mildew ridden basement, with Dad upstairs eating cheetos, and you half naked and undulating erotically- I think I'm going to have to say No.End of conversation."
Example #2
Mistakenly, I taught my mother to knit. It is a great passion of mine, and I thought " Why not share this amazing gift with the woman who cared for me, loved me, and brought me into this world." After many hours of patient tutorials and many question, she became a true knitter. A Knitter with a capital K. Stashes of yarn push against the foundation of the house, threatening to split the siding. Bags and Bags of needles poke you at every turn, even when you sit you must look out for that stray darning needle.One day, when visiting I came across 5 garbage bags filled with knitted items. "Wow" I thought " She's been busy". I yelled down the stairs to her inquiring about the ginormous heaps of baby sweater.
"Oh...thats for Ruby." Who the hell is Ruby? I chalked it up to menopause and continued on.Weeks went by without so much of a thought about the recipient of all those handmade garments untill a family gathering some time later.My Grandmother, who has suffered a traumatic brain injury, has no short term memory. She weebles and wobbles throughout the house , muttering tomelessly to her miniature poodle, whom she calls Shrapnel. His name is cricket, but he seems more fierce when reffered to as "Shrapnel" so I don't correct her. My grandmother reaches over the couch and rubs my belly, with a knowing look in her eye. I wince." Has she become some sort of prophet? Does she know something I don'? When did EPT come out with the human version? AHHHHH! She scuddles her way up the stairs and isn't seen for hours."Where's Gram?" My cousin asks after a few hours without a sighting. We become worried as my grandmother has a tendency to wander off. No one seems to remember. We search and search, calling to Shrapnel. Suddenly my brother calls out "She's in here!"WE find my grandmother aslepp amongst the 5 garbage bags filled with knitted baby clothes, Clutching a tiny booty in her crumpled hand. All 6 of us crowd around, confused. She lifts an eyelid, spots all of us and whispers "Ruby" and falls back to sleep I look at my mother. "Who the hell is Ruby?""WEll, Ruby is my grandbaby. She'd not ready to come out yet, but I dream about her and we go for long walks .......and then she touches my face..........she's got little gold ringlets..." she conti nues on for a good five minutes.My brother is in the corner rolling his eyes. I am quite perturbed by now and yell" You mean to tell me that you told all this to Grandma, head injured "can't remember her own dogs name " grandma? She thinks I'm pregnant.""Well, she needs something to look forward to! Besides I see Ruby every night in my dreans." She sighs wistfully.Beginning to cry she wimpers "Can't you give us that?"By now my grandmother has become fully awak amidst the garbage bags. Heaving herself onto the largest, she cries madly "BABY", spittle rolling offher lips as she smile wildly. Disgusted,I leave the room.Now whenever I see my grandmother she is clutching that same blue, tattered, dog mauled booty. She pats my stomach, looks into my eyes and cackles "Ruby". Again I ask...Who the hell is Ruby???

Well- now we know....