Me on Two Wheels
I learned to ride a bicycle when I was about nine or so. Older than most kids, but I didn’t have any brothers, sisters or friends who were close to my age to help me learn. But honestly, I did learn to ride one. Don’t try to tell Hubby that, though.
I hadn’t ridden a bicycle in over a decade when I met him. But one day after we were married and had Pumpkin, he talked me into getting on his bicycle. Big mistake. I was a bit rusty, but you know what they say: Once you learn how, you never forget. And I didn’t forget. But the bike was way too tall for my short legs, and I couldn’t even get taken off. Hubby still doesn’t believe that I can ride one.
It didn’t help matters when I tried to ride his brother’s motor scooter. I couldn’t make it through the yard on it, because I couldn’t bring myself to pick both feet up. And here I was thinking about getting one (or better yet, a motorcycle) to save gas. I guess I’d better either get more practice first, or put the numbers of some motorcycle accident attorneys on speed dial on my cell phone.
One of these days, I will show him that I can ride a bicycle, and I will learn to ride that scooter. And when I do, I’m going to shout it from the mountaintops.
