((I don’t feel like writing today. I waited too long and now it’s late in the day, and I’m allll outta juice. But we’ve got to try, soooooo…))
“Just in time for my birthday” I squeal, because I’m a stupid kid who still believes in birthdays, in change. It doesn’t matter if I know it’s stupid, I lose myself in the moment anyway. The guy playing my dad pulls a hot lime green helmet out of the back of the car. It matches the brand new bicycle perfectly. He holds the helmet it over my as I happily nestle my noggin in the welcoming, hard foam concave.
“Under the chin…” he says, pretending to concentrate. His eye is hidden by the brim of the helmet, so I get a good look at his mouth up close. It looks like a fish’s gills, with rows and rows of tiny blunt teeth sucking inward. He brings his eye down to meet mine. “All set, sson” he lisps at me with a reasonably good approximation of a twinkle in his eye.
My helmet now attached I move to the bicycle. This one actually seems to have all the right parts. Not wanting to risk losing the moment, I grab the bike and head running for the street (I continue to squeal, partially for effect, but also this is the most fun I’ve had for a while).
Propelling myself onto the street, I realise that I can’t hear the wheels turning, so there are definitely no gears. And as my feet hit the pedals I noticed that they aren’t actually connected to the wheels, so I need to push with my feet on the ground and then use the pedals for show. It wouldn’t be so bad if there was a hill I could go down, but everything is flat here.
Shit. I think I really believed this time.