Who Needs Those Little Ones?

Seriously, who needs those little wheels hanging off the sides of your first bike anyway?  Sam, who rarely rides his bike because it has never been nearly as fast as his Razor, asked me this weekend if he could take off his training wheels.  Friday he had witnessed the overwhelming family joy and over-the-top praise and celebration that a 4-1/2-year-old gets when he rides without training wheels after his friend Nathan did it for the first time.  There were applause and high fives and fist bumps (the exploding kind) and picture taking and lots and lots of smiles, so the next day when faced with his slow "baby bike" Sam asked if we could take off the training wheels.  And after some quick work with a socket wrench the bike was ready.  But Sam wasn't quite.  Not yet.  I think part of it was that his mommy was hanging over him and despite evidence that he has great balance (which he displays while doing tricks on the Razor) she clearly hadn't accepted the fact that he was capable of doing this without scraping all the skin off his legs.  And she perhaps needed to get out of the way.

When I dropped him off at Jamie's Monday morning, I noticed a new bike leaned against the house.  And his friend Owen also brought a bike without training wheels ("We're trying that," Owen's mom said) and dropped it in front of me as I headed to my car.  A little piece of me thought "Sure, he'll probably finally do it when I'm not here to watch."

Fast forward 2 hours and Jamie sent me a picture on her phone, and off I went to witness the milestone.  My boy.  No more training wheels.  Thanks to Jamie's Bike Riding School which is far superior to anything Mommy could do.  (As are her noodles and mashed potatoes and tomato soup.)