Screech. . . Pedal. . . Screech!

Riding a bike behind Evan is a lesson in reaction time. To successfully complete a ride, you must be fully alert and physically prepared.

To Evan's defense, this was his first major bike ride of the summer (we have been slacking a little), and I chose to ride to the library which is a .7 mile ride. He enthusiastically agreed, donned his helmet, and said "Let's go, Mom!"

I -- excited about our new adventure-- gleefully jumped on Chris' bike and we set off. What I quickly found out was the Evan can't multitask on his bike. If he wanted to tell me something, he stopped. No warning. Just stopped.

Pedal. Pedal. Pedal. SCREECH. (I frantically veer into the grass.)

Mom, did you know that when I go to school next year I will be on this playground.

Yes, Evan.

Pedal. Pedal. Pedal. SCREECH. (I miss his tire by a millimeter and scape my leg in the effort.)

Mom, did you say something to me?

Nope, just cruising along.

Ok.

Pedal. Pedal. Pedal. SCREECH. (I blow by him because I can't stop, and I have to turn around, which causes him to try to turn around because he is confused.)

Mom, what are you doing?

I am trying not to hit you. Why did you stop?

Umm. . . .I don't know.

Pedal. Pedal. Pedal. . SCREECH.

And so it continued. After I adjusted my bike riding expectations, I found that I was really enjoying myself. Watching Evan discover this new activity and finding his pride in doing so was priceless. He even "bike danced" on the final path because he said bike riding was a snap (he was snapping his little fingers all over the place.) It was too precious.

I am sure that at some point, the ride will be fluid, but for now Pedal, pedal, pedal, screech is good enough for a smile from me.