I bought my daughter a bike

by teejay 7 Replies latest jw friends

  • teejay

    The other day, my daughter and I celebrated her 4th birthday. It wasn’t much of a celebration only because I don’t know how to go about celebrating birthdays. All I knew to do was go to the grocery store close to where I drop her off everyday at the daycare and ordered her a little cake with “Happy Birthday JJ” with sprinkles. Before I showed it to her after I got home from work, I put four candles on it and lit ‘em. She liked it. Liked it a lot, best I could tell. I did too... prolly mor'n she did. Even at four years of age she seemed to get the idea that she was special... that this was her day. She is, and it was.

    I also got her the littlest bike I could find since she’s so tiny for her age. A bike with training wheels. I wanted her to get over her love affair with the new fangled, plastic thing-a-ma-gig they make nowadays for parents that wanna be “safe” for their kids who don’t want to buy a real bike. The ones that don’t want to buy a real trike. (Are there any out there who know what a trike is? Just curious.)


    When baby girl saw me walking down the hall with this cake flaming with four candles, she screamed like she’d seen a ghost. I mean... jumped up and down and everything. A smile worth more than I can say. Made my heart flutter – it did – like you wouldn’t believe... like I actually did something good.

    It wasn’t long before she was trying out her new bike in the driveway. Funny how a kid – after getting on a simple machine like a bike – looks so stupid sometimes. She did. Look stupid, I mean.

    But she liked it right off... I could tell. Was peddling like a natural. Till she took a turn too fast and too sharp. And fell. Not a bad fall, but bad enough. For her. She got right up, dusted herself off, and went to get her “better” bike. The one slung lower to the ground. Yep... she was done with that thang called a bike. It was too new. Too radical. Too outside her comfort zone. She was ready for the familiar. I tried to talk her out of her decision, but the case was closed... over... done with. 'Fore long, she was riding the plastic thing-a-ma-gig -- like always.


    All too often, my four year old reminds me of us. Us grownups.

  • Prisca

    Beautiful. You know, you've probably created a memory that she'll remember for the rest of her life.

    I did too... prolly mor'n she did.

    That took a second reading to get the accent around that one. Interesting, reminds me of Mark Twain's writing.

  • Mystery

    Yes, but eventually she will go back to the bike.

    Alot of us grown ups would never go back "to the bike".

  • Ravyn

    funny--- my own personal bike experience was that when I got the 'real' bike it was too hard to use(it had solid tires if I remember correctly and we lived in the country with dirt roads) and it sat for a couple of years in the kitchen next to the pantry. A purple and chrome thing with streamers on the hand grips. But then dad took off the training wheels and told me it was now or never. He was so cruel and demanding that after a few 'lessons' that were pure hell--I decided it was NEVER. Another couple of years and my little sister grew up enough to inherit that bike(poor kid!) and I was given another one that had air tires and no training wheels. It probably sat there for another year until I was so embarassed by not being able to ride it(I was probably in 3rd grade by then) that I took it out one day and used a cinder block to get on it (I was small too) and just rode it. After that, as the oldest kid in the cluster of houses there I became the bike riding instructor for all the younger ones. I must have taught atleast 8 other kids thru the year,(once on a bet I 'won' the neighbor girl a new bike from her dad in a crash-course, he challenged her to learn in one afternoon how to go thru an obstacle course her brothers had set up-she had to use my bike and she could barely even reach the pedals!) And I got pretty good with the dirt racing and tricks.

    When we moved to the city when I was a teen ager I got a cruiser--but it was not the same and shortly after that I got ill with Lupus and my mobility and balance was impaired anyway. So bike riding kinda went by the wayside. But the memories of my dirt-biking days as a kid and teaching the others are fond memories! Wish I could see that bike again! It had a banana seat and a sissy bar! It was metallic lemon yellow that faded to an emerald green and had three speeds.....


  • Shutterbug

    When I was 30 we were blessed with a son, 15 years later at the age of 45 we were blessed with a daughter who is now almost 21. At the age of 34 or so, I was still in good enough shape to run down the street after my son while he learned to ride a bike. At the age of 50, there was no way I could keep up with daughter while she learned, so grown son came to the rescue and helped daughter learn to ride. That is when I learned just how valuable grown children can be to their aging parents.

    Teejay, your daughter will go back to the bicycle, its just a matter of time. Might help if Mom and Dad bought bikes of their own and showed her how much fun bicycle riding can be. Bug


    Would that every father had a greater appreciation of the monumental role ---positive or negative---he plays in the woman his daughter(s) will become.

    Very touching. Good on you, Teejay.


  • Francois

    I haven't thought about this in years. Teejay's post reminded me.

    When I was old enough for a bike, six years, I was then recovering from Rheumatic Fever and so I couldn't have one "just yet," I had to wait until some "count" in my blood either got up to 9 or went down to 9, I disremember which. I just remember it was 9. It seemed like that sucker was never going to get to 9. I actually couldn't wait each week to go to the doctor and have the 10 cc of blood taken from my arm. Other kids were screaming their heads off; I was sitting there calm as the Buddha. And this was back when they were using those re-useable needles and glass syringes, and those needles were BIG. I cared not a particle. Maybe THIS week was going to be THE week.

    I will never forget, though, the week when Dr. Morrison smiled and told me that my count was at 9. Finally. I had been salivating over all the other kid's bikes for about two years. I even snuck in a few illegal rides for which I would have been beaten nearly to death if I'd been discovered. Well. I got my bike. It had training wheels. I was indignant. I wanted them removed right now. They were. There was this line of cinder blocks that was just the right height so that when I was on my bike, I could push off from the cinder blocks and with all that momentum going all I had to do was start pedaling and I was off to the races.

    Anyway. It won't take long for your daughter to get over the initial fear of her bicycle. She'll be on that sucker going 90 mph down the street, holding on to the tailgate of some truck, the driver of which doesn't know she's even back there while you, TJ, watching from the front yard with your mouth silently working up and down like a fish out of water, will quietly have a massive coronary and will be in the hospital for weeks and weeks barely holding on to life. Been there. Done that.



  • Undecided

    My daughter learned how to ride in one afternoon. I forget how old she was then. When i married my present wife I was riding every day and rode it to see her many times. This was when the gas shortage was in full force in the seventies and the roads were almost clear of cars at night. I road it to work and sometimes would ride about 50 miles in a day. I was in my late 30s and in the best shape of my life, except for the late teenage years when I played basket ball and worked out with bar bells. I still like to ride my bike, I did yesterday, but my stamina is about gone at 67. I miss my youth.

    Ken P.

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