It reminded me of the day I learned to ride my first two-wheeler with the banana seat, fringed hand-grips, and the basket on the front. As with many memories, I think I remember the photo more than the actual moment, but I'm sure it was exhilarating to ride through the neighborhood with the wind in my flowing, blond hair, unencumbered by a helmet.
Luckily I never cracked my head open, but boy my brother Elijah sure did. When he was around 7 he was riding his bike and his front wheel came off, the forks stuck into our dirt driveway and he went @ss over teakettle. He was a mess. I don't have a picture of him with two black eyes and multiple contusions, but here's a picture of me scowling in concentration while trying not to wrap myself around a mailbox:
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And then there's Norah, who will never let anyone run faster, climb higher, or cliff-dive from a taller rock outcropping than she will. She hopped on one of Aliya's old bikes and pedaled madly down the street while I ran after her. (I probably don't need to point out that she was wearing a polka-dot tutu and pink flats.) Aliya got all cocky and rode by with a "So long.... Suckaaaaaa" over her shoulder, and promptly ran off the road. Norah and I rode/ran past her with a "Suckaaaaa right back at-cha" and Aliya ran into the house to remain hidden in humiliation until dinner. I'm sure I'll live to regret my parenting skills or lack thereof, but I figure they're all going to hate me for a certain period of time anyway so I might as well have a few laughs in the process. I have noticed that no matter how mad they get at me they still want to have "snuggle time" before bed. I guess when they stop asking for that I'll know that the honeymoon's over. Until then..."So long, Suckaaaaa!" :-)
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