Love & Hate Relationship Part I

 The above image was found here.

Originally written April 24, 1989 for a College Elementary Ed English Class


Learning to ride a bike was a monumental task for me. Like many other children, I got a bike when I was about six. Although it's not provable, I believe my parents were tired of me whining about being bored and decided that The Almost End of the Summer Bike Sale down at the local Coast to Coast Hardware Store was the answer which would pacify me until school started four weeks later. My mom and dad took me to pick out the bike of my choice, at least that's what I thought they were doing. Actually while they may have wanted me to think I was choosing the bike, they really desired the sturdiest bike for the cheapest price. Several bikes rested on the high, store shelf. Just exiting the purple stage of my life, I chose the purple bike with the white basket, but it was more expensive than the plain pink bike next to it on the shelf. I deeply desired the purple bike, but my parents convinced me to accept the pink bike, promising to buy me a basket.

Not only was the bike we bought missing a basket, it also lacked training wheels. I didn't really care at first, buy my mother, who ran along behind me, did. Up and down the sidewalk we went. Each time she'd let go, I'd wobble and almost fall over. After weeks of chasing up and down the concrete, my mom decided to get pregnant, so that she would have an excuse to quit chasing behind me. I was sorry to see her go, but I was convinced I could conquer this task on my own. Unfortunately this was an impossible dream. I made several futile attempts to propel myself, in an upright fashion, down the street, buy eventually I admitted failure. Nearing the end of August and the beginning of the wild Wyoming winter, I retired my bike to the hanging hooks in the garage and vowed to bring it out and try again the next spring.