Friday, August 17, 2012
The Big Bike Show
"Mama," my eight-year-old son said, running into the house. "Come and see our bike show!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Just come on. You'll see."
I followed the boy outside to a street a few blocks away. In the middle of a cul-de-sac was a bike ramp.
Uh oh, I thought. This can't be good.
About seven boys were biking around, doing all kinds of not-so-safe tricks. I watched as my boy jumped the ramp. Then he whipped around and did some kind of fancy one-foot-on-the-pedal, one-foot-up-in-the-air move. I thought I was going to have a heart-attack.
"Uh, Bubba," I said. "I'm not so sure this is safe."
"Don't worry, Mama. I've been practicing."
Uh huh. He's been practicing.
I watched the show for about a half hour. Miraculously, nobody got hurt. I was glad when his bike was in the garage and he was safe in the house.
Wasn't it just last year that I taught him how to ride his bike?