Dashed dreams

We stopped in at a bike shop to inquire about the possibility of conveying three children under the power of a lone biking adult.
Last Christmastime, while walking through the mall I happened upon a bike shop, it’s windows full of beautifully painted, basket laden beach cruisers.
I have no interest in biking long distances or through mountains and accordingly my interest in bikes died when the mighty driver’s license entered my life.
When I saw those lovely bikes I remembered how great it was to pedal around the neighborhood, with or without a destination. I realized that I didn’t have to bike for miles or over mountains to enjoy the freedom and joy of a bike.
And did I mention the bikes were lovely? I was previously unaware that there was such a thing as an attractive adult-sized bike.
From that day forth I have wished for a bike. A bike to ride to the park, to take Zizza to her dance class, to make my hair fly, and to admire.
This winter I was going to do it.
At the bike shop yesterday we learned that there is indeed a way for me to propel all three children along with me. As long as all of the children can sit and support their own heads. There is no way, not a way known to the bicycle man anyway,to bike with a two month old.
“I guess we won’t be biking Sister to dance class” I mourned. DO you know what that Awful Bicycle Man did then? What he had the nerve to do after dashing my dreams?
“Whoa,” said A.B.M. “Dance class at four? somebody’s gonna be self conscious when she gets older”
Excuse me? Self conscious? Because she goes the the neighbors house to plie to various Disney soundtracks for an hour every Wednesday? Self Conscious because she’s learning coordination and how to enjoy exercise and express herself through movement?
I still want a bike, and I’ll still probably buy it at that shop when the New One grows some neck muscles, but I’m going to give that Awful Bicycle Man a dirty look if he’s there when I do.

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