Boys. They just can’t do the safe thing, they’ve got to toe the line, peer over the edge, then ride their bikes along it. I’m trying to water the plants last night and Number Two decides he’s coming out. Fine…he…
Boys. They just can’t do the safe thing, they’ve got to toe the line, peer over the edge, then ride their bikes along it. I’m trying to water the plants last night and Number Two decides he’s coming out. Fine…he…
Toddler Harbat is confused. When I suggest we take her tricycle out, she probably envisions sitting in a recliner while the scenery blurs past, preferably with a chocolate milk in one hand and a pony with long Technicolor hair riding…
I remember my first bike, a flashy blue number with training wheels and a horn. When I first climbed aboard I felt the mantle of adult responsibility draped on my shoulders. This was a real machine, with chrome and gears…