Sunday, August 01, 2004

Training Wheels

I felt like the Colombian husband and wife that run the local cycle shop were shaking their heads at me. The MapucheRican got her first big girl bike after he birthday almost a year ago.

"It doesn't come with training wheels?" I remember asking as she picked out a Trek bike complete with streamers and a white basket in the front.

"She doesn't need no training wheels. Just start out by teaching her how to walk it and before you know it she'll be testing her balance and riding. " the man told me.

He doesn't know my daughter. The MapucheRican did not inherit my fearlessness. In fact she is like my sister, screaming at the site of bugs and trembling at the thought of a scrape.

I tried. I really did try to teach her how to ride. We went to empty lots and huge playgrounds. I took her up and down and around the block. But her fear kept winning and the damn bike was just taking up too much fucking room in my apartment to sit unused.

So Friday the bike shop put training wheels on and the MapucheRican has been peddling around like no one's business. On Sabado her and a boy raced. He was the same age as my daughter. His bike had training wheels.

I learned how to ride sans training wheels in a Corona school yard with my dad screaming at me. I cried the whole time but I learned.

I don't want my daughter to learn crying though. So for now training wheels are ok.


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