Jessie decided she wanted a bike. Her bestest friend Glennys has one, and her heart was broken into a million pieces because she didn’t have one. So I, the good mother, go out the next day, searching for one. I had to go to two different stores, then buy the helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, the whole thing. Now she’s got a gorgeous purple bike, matching accessories – and she’s desperate to ride it. And of course, it rained for the past two days. I finally get her outside today (with my 10 year old stepdaughter pushing one carriage with a toddler, me shoving two more in my double stroller, and my poor other stepdaughter is assigned to assist Jess. As she rides. With training wheels.
She’s terrified of it. Thinks she’s up too high, it goes too fast, she begged me not to make her (make her – like she hadn’t sobbed to get the bike in the first place) ride it. I’m ill amused. And planning on taking her alone down to the nearest park for a couple of hours, bribing her with ice cream and chocolate if she’ll just be brave enough to give it a shot.