She did it her way...

Well, despite my reservations Finn - the sunshine of my life - learned to ride a bike and she did her very own way. Basically, I was cut out of the deal. She refused to let me hold on the back of her bike and run alongside her. She informed me pointblank that she didn't trust me. Fair enough. She's seen enough movies to know that I was going to let go of the bike as soon as she built up enough speed and she was having none of it. Instead, she found herself a very small hill in the graveyard across the street from our house and for three hours straight she walked her bike up the incline and rolled down. Up and down, over and over again, red-faced and furious she kept at it.

When I gently suggested we take a break for dinner she very nearly tore a strip off of me - only our tenuous mother-child-respect arrangement prevented her from really telling me off. This was not the ideal experience I remembered from my own youth. There was a lot of whining and carrying on. At one point she actually yelled at the wind. Seriously. She stopped her bike and turned to face the breeze blowing her way and screamed "Stupid wind! I hate you!" Of course there were people nearby. Why wouldn't there be? Any advice I offered was recv'd with a scowl and basic frustrated carrying-on. It was terrible and familiar. I remembered how I screamed at my mother when she tried to teach me how to drive. I made a mental note to buy her something shiny for Mother's Day.

The sun was getting lower, it was nearly 6:30 pm and I was plotting to forcibly pull the bike out of her desperate grip when it happened. She was pedaling and pedaling. She went on forever. It was glorious. A wobbling vision of victory and pink streamers. I cheered. She grinned and hooted. We had our cliched moment after all - just not the way I planned it and that actually made it all the better. Nice.