A Pleasant Walk After Dinner

IB and his bike in happier times: they have yet to meet sidewalk.

We know that what you really want is a good Island Boy story.  So here’s one:

Running Girl wanted to take a walk after dinner.  This is something that we regularly do at night.  Lately, we have been accompanied on the walk by Island Boy and his bike with training wheels.  Typically, he will fly ahead of us until he is just far away enough induce nervousness on his part.  He will then wait for Mama and Papa to catch up. Or come running back to us in a panic.  In this manner, we  usually do 2 to 2 1/2 very painful miles.

That brings us to tonight.   We lit off at a snail’s pace.  For some unknown reason, Island’s days of zooming ahead have ceased.  He now travels entire feet at a time before stopping and issuing some command to his loyal subjects.  You can time our progress around the block with a calendar.  This leads to not much exercise and a marked increase in his parents’ stress level.  In short, it’s anti-exercise.

Kind of like this. But with less pink.

Another added bonus to the Island Boy fitfully stopping program is that he is now traveling at speeds so slow that he has insufficient momentum to keep his bike upright.  Thus, we have the gift of watching IB fall to the pavement over and over again.  You might think that this never gets old.  But, trust me: it does.

Tonight we got about a quarter-mile into the project when it became apparent that we could advance no farther.  Island Boy’s slow forward progress and perpetual lean to the left had actually put enough strain on his training wheel to cause it to loosen entirely.  The left training wheel was flopping like a broken wing.  The right training wheel was in pristine condition.  It had never actually touched the sidewalk (see “Propensity to lean to the left“, above).

When I tried to get our Caribbean hero to lean to the right for a little bit, he reacted as though I had just suspended him head-first into a tank filled with sharks.

The Major. But with better hair.

Running Girl had no running today.  At this moment in our tale, she has had very little walking.  I could sense that RG (usually our rock of stability) was about to go postal.  Say what you want…chivalry is not dead.  I valiantly offered to take Island Boy home to tighten his training wheel, while letting RG continue on with her stroll for a few miles.

Running Girl is no fool.  She got while the getting was good.  Before Island and I knew what hit us, we were treated to the sight of the soles of Mama’s quickly retreating feet.

Thus, I began the arduous trip back to magical place known as Kay Nou.

I could tell tales of the wide sidewalk cracks I traversed with no help from my not so faithful companion.  But, I won’t.  I could boast that Island Boy did not complain at all while I dragged the wounded bike home with his non-pedaling carcass mounted on top.  But, that wouldn’t be truthful.  Instead, I’ll just tell you that, as we progressed, it seemed to become harder and harder for me to pull the bike.

Finally, I realized what was going on.

“Island Boy?,” I patiently inquired,  “could you possibly stop pressing the brakes?”

— The Major

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3 responses to this post.

  1. “less pink.” he he

    How do you get a little girl to pose like that?

    or

    How do you stop and take a photo if she is not posing?

    Reply

  2. Posted by lisa on September 20, 2010 at 10:49 pm

    Totally brightened my day 🙂

    Reply

  3. Posted by Jennifer on September 21, 2010 at 12:30 pm

    Very funny stuff. Laughed out loud at the “pink” photo and RG updates. great

    Reply

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