Sunday, November 25, 2012
So I stepped up to apply pin to the balloon, explaining as diplomatically as possible that in the interests of public safety, police might not allow bikes that could fly, Little Girl thought about that for a while, and then conceded that as long as her bike was a pink unicorn bike with wings, it wasn't terribly important that the bike didn't fly. After all, she was almost four, wise to the concessions the world requires. She's not a baby anymore!
Granddad and I offered to take on the risk of finding a pink bike and hoping it would please, sans ailes. Or, at least, I decided, wings sold separately. . . .So Granddad found a great little bike, Nana found some feathery wings, and Granddad even threw in the goofy glasses. On Saturday, we got to see if the new transportation would suit . . .
26 years ago, when Little Girl's aunt turned 4, we presented her with a little pink bike. Pretty frivolous, it seemed then, that tiny size that I knew, by child #3, would be outgrown so quickly. And pink, when she already had a baby brother . . . But it seemed really important to me at the time that sometimes a third child should get something NOT hand-me-down, something that was just what she wanted. It was Megan's first bike, and much tinier than the one we gave Nola, and she kept the training wheels on for a few months, but she loved that little bike for the year before she grew into the next one, probably a hand-me-down.
I couldn't help collapse the two bikes into one, the 26 years telescoping together magically. Aunt Megan, you might not be able to tell from the photo above, is about to deliver a tiny cousin for Little Girl -- in fact, there was some speculation she might manage the trick in time for Nola's birthday. All these firsts for our children and now our grandchildren . . . I remember the excitement of those firsts, and I savour, truly savour, the experience deepening with repetition. . .
She phoned us tonight to thank us, Nola did, and to tell us that she rode her new bike today, without the training wheels, and without even her dad holding her. She also laughed and told us a bit about the day's activities with the other hit birthday presents -- not one, but two, two!! whoopee cushions. Happy Birthday, Growing Girl! You make us so very happy! And take your time, New Little Person, but we're waiting, ready to fold you into our family. . . .