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This isn’t all about the bike. Really.
Today I went for my second bike ride. Sequoia and I rode down the trails into the woods, did some berry picking, went to the playground, came home. Here’s how that went. Spoiler alert: I did not die.
Sequoia was both excited and encouraging when I suggested this bike ride. She lit up, then remembered Sunday and said, “Mommy, you’re a good bike rider. You’re getting good at it because you practiced.” She (a six-year-old) then proceeded to give me tips for how to better get onto my bike and start to pedal. True story.
We started out without me crashing into any old men. If the same old man from Sunday was around, here’s how his two conversations could have gone:
Man to wife when he got home on Sunday: “You wouldn’t believe what happened. A grown woman came wobbling off the curb and into the street like a drunk 2-year-old and nearly crashed into me.”
Wife: “Must be that American they talk about.”
Man to wife today: “Well, I’ll be damned. That woman managed to leave her driveway today without killing the two women walking by.”
Wife: “Her kid probably taught her.”
Sequoia and I rode out of town and onto the trails until we came to the woods, where we paused for a break. That’s when we noticed the raspberries. My basket came in handy.
The raspberries didn’t make it to the house.
Eventually, upon Sequoia’s insistence, we made it to the playground. That’s where the pantless boy was. There are unclothed kids everywhere in the summer. On Sunday at the playground, there had to be 10 of them, running around the lake, running around the grass. Today’s boy was playing in the sandbox; no thanks. The pool, the creek, kids changing everywhere.
After Sequoia played with her friends, we headed home. I’m proud to say that Sequoia fell off her bike and I did not. (Is that wrong?) Actually, the poor thing really skinned her knee. I, on the other hand, managed to make it the whole ride without crashing—or dying or shitting my pants, which makes it another successful day.
