Bicycles & a true story from my childhood.

I'm a cyclist now. Hahahaha. As if. I haven't actually been on a bicycle in about 14 years, but I got Eleanore's new bike seat all attached to my new-to-me kijiji bike today, put on my dorkus helmet and set off for 10 minutes of cycling bliss. Holy Mother of Glah! During the second leg of my endurance run, I had to ride up a very small incline a steep and mountainous trail and nearly had an aneurysm. Luckily, My friend Sue's house was nearby and she offered me lunch.

When we were kids, my sister had a banana bike, and I want to say that it was metallic yellow.. or maybe orange. It was sparkly anyway. Full on Chopper Banana Sasstastic. How I coveted it so.... I snuck it out one day to give it a secret try (she didn't let me near it for some unfair reason) and then I kinda left it behind my Dad's truck and he kinda backed over it. I was probably distracted by the exciting cows or something. That's right. Cows. More fun than you might think. Banana bikes & cows. This was my childhood for a while. Also, we had a rabbit named Thumper who screamed like a woman.
Anyhow, my Dad backed right over it, leaving it in a bananish mash of a sparkly banana bike and I will never forget my older (then 9 year old) sister in her blue plaid dress and LOoOOoong ponytails heaving and snarling into a giant girl hulk monster from the front door to banana bike ground zero. Fire was shooting from her eyes, bees were shooting from her mouth... her hands were rolled into solid rock fists and she was lurching directly at me. She opened her lips and a thundering banshee shriek came from beyond her human vocal capabilities... It was supernatural. My hair blew back and my 6 year old eyelids stretched toward my ears from the force of it. Slime and lava and bees shot at me. The sky turned black- and purple storms swirled around her and she stamped and snorted like a Hadean Bull at me. My throat sealed up and I shriveled into a quivering mass of giant, cute-sad eyeballs. My cuteness saved my life that day. My sister wasn't as convinced, she was still growing enormous and grinding her teeth into points.

See how cute?

Luckily, my oldest brother tackled her and soothed her back into a child before she could rip my limbs off and feed them to the cow. Her siren softening to whimper. She said that she forgave me, but when she said it- I could see that her teeth were still pointy and her irises went red whenever Mom wasn't looking.

It was one of the many lessons in my life on why I am incapable of sneakiness. Disorganized people cannot, by their nature, achieve any kind of sneakiness.

So I'm going to start off slowly in 10-15 minute bursts of riding my new bike. I'm trying to avoid saddle soreness. My poor, poor arsie.