I love motorcycles. I know they’re dangerous, but I love them nonetheless. And I can say Todd earned a few extra points when we were dating, and he said he had a new shiny “bike.” They make the country life a little more exciting! It helps that I was forbidden to come near one until I was college aged. They seem so fun and naughty.
Todd is a very smart driver and a mechanic, so I feel secure on the back. Sometimes when it’s warm out, he will run into town on his motorcycle and add a little power to the common errand. On this particular day, his youngest daughter wanted to go. I remember how I gasped, “It’s too dangerous, Cutie..” I was talking to her, but Todd replied, “Ah, she’ll like it.”
All the hair on the back of my neck stood up, my heart pounded, “Her mother won’t like it, and she’s only 12…and…” Neither of them listened. I had to surrender to the spirit of fun and snap a picture. But She just looked like a little baby with a retainer. I felt so protective.
My first motorcycle ride was dangerous. He was 19 and I ….wasn’t. He was drinking, and I knew he shouldn’t. He was my first. He helped me understand danger. If he had a daughter, I never would have allowed it. Never!
After 15 minutes, Todd and his daughter were back, her smile broad and hair a complete mess. Todd enjoyed the I-told-you-so-moment.
Today, only four years later, she has completed her driver’s test. Heck, I don’t think any of us could stop her from buying a motorcycle if she wants one. She’s legal. It’s out of our hands.
But what do I see? An adorable girl, now an inch taller than me, braces, and car keys dangling in her hands. I see a swimmer’s body in a lettermen’s jacket. I see her smiling ear to ear with her BFF on face time. I see a sweet baby girl putting the keys in the ignition.
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