I love my bike. I really really love it. A friend gave it to me for free a few years ago and I appreciate that every time I ride it. It hasn’t logged all that many miles–certainly not as many as the bike I rode when I was young and carefree in Montreal and Toronto. That bike got me home from many bars, late nights at work, and other adventures across town. I loved that bike too, but this bike is different.
These days I am not so young and not so carefree. I’m in my pajamas by 8:30 most nights, and I am rarely more than a five minute walk away from my kids.
But when I get on my bike I can go farther. I can feel the wind in my hair, smell the rose bushes along the canal, admire the trees and fancy houses in the Glebe. I can bike through the Arboretum with a friend, and just get away from it all. I can go to the farther-away grocery stores . . .
I did that this afternoon with both kids strapped into the bike trailer behind me. It was great to see them just enjoying the ride.
Here’s a joke:
What do you say to make a horse go faster? Giddy-up!
What do you say to make a dog go faster? Mush!
What do you say to make a mommy go faster?
“Mommy, I have to pee!”