Before the baby was born, from time to time Peace and Fuzzy would call us up- late on a weeknight, usually- and say one word: RALPH'S! We'd jump into the convertible, pick them up, and drive under stars with the wind in our hair, laughing at stupid jokes and telling stories the whole way, until we arrived at Ralph's and we'd eat fruity water-ice or chocolatey cream-ice in the parking lot.
The landscape has changed since then and we don't leave the house past 8pm, but Peace and Fuzzy still come over to eat chips and salsa from time to time, which keeps us feeling a little like we still have lives.
I don't know whether I mentioned it here or not, but we decided a few months ago to sell my convertible and replace it with a 4-door. It's ridiculous to get a baby in and out of the backseat, and she isn't really safe with the top down (you know, flying debris and little eyeballs and all that stuff). In a serendipitous turn of events, SNG's new boss' husband bought it. I'm sure he'll get lots of great years out of the cherry bomb.

It's really best that we sold it because the car wasn't getting much use (it's had about 2000 miles on it over the past year) and around here, a convertible should be driven. A lot. But I'm sad because I really enjoyed that car.

Today we bought its replacement. The ScoobyDoo has a new sister, and they now need new names.

Say hello to Ruby-Doo and Scooby-Blue!