IN THE MORNING I was surprised to hear the doorbell ring instead of Ruthie's car horn. I zipped up my backpack and headed downstairs, following the voices to the kitchen. Dad and Ruthie huddled around the counter.
"What are you two up to?" I called out, already guessing.
Ruthie whipped around, a toothy grin on her face. "It's hot cocoa day!" she quipped, holding out her paper cup.
I looked out the window to see a bright sunny day awaiting us. Last night's cold fog had disappeared and been replaced with brightness and warmth. It didn't seem cold enough to warrant hot cocoa, but this was Ruthie Robles we were talking about.
"Every day is hot cocoa day for you," I countered, with a knowing smile. Dad stocked up on disposable mugs just for Ruthie's requests.
"It's the least I can do for Ruthie since she won't take any gas money," inserted Dad, topping her cup with a large helping of whipping cream.