A to Z Challenge 2014 · memories · Uncategorized

T is for training wheels…

t4pThere was a little girl who

loved to bicycle.

She had a best friend who had an older sister.
This older sister taught the little girl how to ride a bike.
Everyday the little girl would go down the street to her friend’s house,
get on older sister’s bike and ride.
Oh, the joy!


The problem with this was that there was only one bike for two little girls.
They had to share which was fine except when it wasn’t.
Of course, her friend had first dibs on the bike.
It was her sister’s bike soon to be her bike.

So the little girl started her campaign to get her own bicycle.

She was told she didn’t know how to ride a bike so didn’t need one,
she was too little for a big girl bike,
there was no pavement just a dirt road to ride on,
she would get hurt,
on and on and on.

She explained about girlfriend’s older sister teaching her to ride.
How she rode a big girl bike almost everyday.
She rode on the dirt road.
Yes, she did fall sometimes and it did hurt but riding a bike was worth it.

When all her efforts to explain that she should have a big girl bike
failed to convince the powers that be, mommy and daddy,
that she really should have a big girl bike
she did what any little girl would do.

She cried.

She got a bike.


Not exactly what she had in mind!

So, for most of the summer she would ride her bike,
with training wheels, down the road to her friend’s house
and take turns riding the big girl bike.

One day daddy saw her riding the big girl bike,
a bike without training wheels,
and he got very upset.
“Didn’t she know she was too little to ride a big bike?!”

For daddy’s seeing isn’t always believing.

First Image: pixabay
econd Image: morgueFile

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10 thoughts on “T is for training wheels…

  1. My first bike was old and clunky and all my friends rode lightweight Schwinn’s. Took me forever to bike up a hill! Hopefully this girl got a big girl bike sometime.

  2. I enjoyed reading the story of the little girl, which reminds me of the time when I was learning to ride a bicycle with training wheels. It was my father who taught me how. Unlike the girl in the story, I was reluctant to practice riding a bicycle because I thought it was dangerous…

    I find your story heartwarming.

  3. There is just something so very special about these posts, Patricia! A quiet unassuming wisdom laced with humor. Just loved this!

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