A different kind of post today.
After almost an entire year of having his bike the wee lad, finally, has learned to go it without stabilisers.
He’s only “ridden” the thing about 3 times since we bought it last year. Turned out, even after trying him on it at the store, the thing was a bit too big and heavy for him to manage.
Being highly adept at turning my hand to new skills and not fearing anything, except “…not being there!”, I figured he’d be like me and just sit on it and go.
Alas, it was not to be.
Bought stabilisers for it and took him out. Boy was terrified! Would cycle no more than, say 1 mph, and swaying horrendously to one side only to over-compensate and bounce to the other side with a wail of terror.
Today, though, we decided to take him down the park for one last attempt before just selling the bike to Big Mike – an Oopma Loompa we know that lives down the road from us – and be done with it.
Lo and behold, 2 exhausting hours later (well, exhausting for me anyway as the missus just sat under a tree playing Scrabble on her DS Lite while I kept up a steady run behind the bike, lying to the boy saying: “Yes, I’m still holding on,” *puff, pant* “just keep pedalling!”) he doth cycle.
And all it took was a promise of a new toy if he did the deed.
So, I may be £12 out of pocket but at least I can walk down the street, head held high. No more embarrassed excuse making when folks with kids 3 years younger than mine say “Sorry? He can’t ride a bike?” and stifle a laugh.
Fuck you people like I just described in the above paragraph which preceded this sentence. Fuck you.