My Happiest Moment
Everybody has had some sort of exciting happening. For instance, Brandon’s happy moment might be successfully leading his sister into a crowd with only her fuzzy wuzzy pajamas on. Addison’s might be completing her room all by herself. But what was my happy moment you ask? It was a simple bike ride on my hand-me-down two wheeler. It wasn’t just any bike ride. It was my first one on a two wheeler.
I didn’t exactly enjoy the hurricane. What I did enjoy was the one week, two day break that followed. I was eight. It doesn’t matter though. That moment was like watching the ball drop, except there were two balls, they came off to the side, and they were wheel shaped wheels. “Pull them off, pull them off!” my father chanted wildly as my mom put the last two nuts and bolts on the freshly cut grass. The two wheeler was mine to master.
Boing! Awww! My leg! That was my first try. Being an energetic little munchkin like myself, I was able to muscle up and get back on the bike. This time mom would hold the back of my seat. It isn’t like the movies where mommy lets go and you’re riding. In the real world, mommy lets go and all you can hear is CLUNK! You see, I had only seen movies and commercials. My sister learned to ride the bike at the age of... I-don’t-know. I wasn’t watching. Her, that is. At the time I loved the TV. I just told my mom that I was too busy to try. The way I learned to ride my bike was “no pain, no gain”. The bike and my body touched that asphalt so much that to this day, I still hurt all over. One day though, you could’ve made a movie segment. My mom’s friend came over and within 20 minutes I could stop myself and steer with all that jazzy mumb-jumbo on the side. I was a real hit.
The bottom line is that I can ride with pride, even if I have a demented boy bike.
