Last night, Thor and I went for a bike ride. We were about a mile away from the house when I noticed his back tire was flat, and was probably the reason he was having such a hard time keeping up with me. At that point, we just locked his bike up on the rack at the elementary school and I had to figure out how to get him home.
At first, he rode on my handlebars. When that didn’t work (too much of his helmet in my face and throat), I had a brilliant idea. I would let him ride piggyback!
Do you know what happens when you add 50lbs to your own body weight? Y’all. Never try to carry a 50lb child on your back, on a bicycle. I managed to pull a muscle across my ribs, mid-back, and my thighs feel like horrible things have been done to them in the name of science.
We got home, though, and that’s what is important.
When I was very small, my mom and I were riding a ferris wheel at a carnival. The ferris wheel stopped working just as we crested the topmost point. We sat there for a while, waiting for them to get it started again. We were told it could be over an hour, and as we sat, I began to sunburn. Mom was having none of that.
She took off her belt and my belt, and belted them together, then belted me to her frontside. I held on like a baby monkey while she wormed us out of the ferris wheel seat, and then climbed down the spokes of the wheel until we were safely on the ground.
We weren’t so lucky the time the Carnie decided to go to lunch while we were on an Octopus Ride, and left us spinning and whirling for 45 minutes. My inner ear hasn’t been the same since, but I think I proved that I could have gone into space at that point in my life.