Tomorrow? Roller Blades!

Have you ever gone on a bike ride with a 5 year old who just got rid of his training wheels a few weeks prior?

If you haven't, DON'T. Unless you're wearing a football helmet, have nerves of steel, and the reflexes of Spider Man.

This all sounded like a fantastic idea; perfect fall afternoon, spending some quality times with my two boys, and me getting some semblance of exercise. And like all of the things that in my head are great in theory, in reality this was an experience in survival.

For one thing, he's determined to at least keep up with Rakes and not let me get ahead of him, which is fine. Except he's looking everywhere but where he's going which in turn makes you feel like you're riding bumper cars. I figured out I needed to stay behind him after the 5th time he ran me into the curb while avoiding him flying into me.

In addition there were about 15 "I need to take a rest, Dad" the first of which occurred no more than 100 yards from our driveway. We had to stop and push our bikes up any hills bigger than a bike ramp (Of course I had to as well as him; remember, I couldn't get ahead of him) and on the ensuing down hill rides?

Have you ever heard anyone use the phrase "Hell bent for leather"?

Imagine Trot wearing a deranged smile going roughly 15 miles an hour down a hill with his feet off the pedals yelling "WHEEEEEEE!!!!" at the top of his lungs. Throw in the fact he still hasn't grasped the whole "push back on the pedals" stopping thing and you get him with his butt 2 inches away from the back tire, dragging his feet on the ground to try and stop at the intersection at the bottom of the hill while I'm screaming "THE BRAKES! HIT THE BRAKES!"

As we slowly pedaled our way home I kept repeating the same thing in my head, over and over.

I wonder if Evel Kenevels kid started out like this.