Friday, May 23, 2008

A cute little upright, European style "ride through the French countryside, picnicking on red wine and brie" kind of bike




I've always thought families who bike together are totally on the cutting edge of being fun, fabulous and healthy. Seeing them dart along the path behind our house I imagine that they are all chatting, laughing and bonding as they sail across the hills of the path. I always have felt a twinge of jealousy for their biking-ness.

Now Shawn is a biker. He actually was a National BMX Champion (yes, I said National!) when he was a kid. Not something he brags about but I tell everyone I know. I slip it into casual conversation whenever possible, such as: "Oh yes, I love All detergent, it gets my whites really white... did you know Shawn was a National BMX Champion??" He's going to beg me to delete this post but I refuse.

Anyway, so he's a big biker. He likes to mountain bike whenever he gets a chance. (Which admittedly isn't very often since we had kids.) For awhile right after we met I even owned a bike and we rode together. My bike was a cute little upright, European style "ride through the French countryside, picnicking on red wine and brie" kind of bike. I owned it about 3 months and then came home from work one day to discover the lock on my bike cut and my bike gone. It would have been a very sad weekend, losing my beloved bike, except that Shawn proposed to me the very next day so my bike was forgotten as I stared incessantly at my beautiful diamond engagement ring and imagined hydrangea bouquets and a duchess satin wedding gown. I never gave my stolen bike much more of a thought after that, and never replaced her either.

I'm digressing. So a couple of months ago Shawn decides he wants a new bike. A road bike. His mountain bike is about 10 years old so I figure he is due for a new ride. He comes home after several hours at the bike shop with an order for a sweet fast-as-lightening-school-bus-yellow road bike, and a fancy bike brochure... In glimpsing through the brochure I realize if I'm not careful I could become a bike-widow. Meaning he might start spending his weekends on his bike and I'd be home alone with the kids. Nu-uh, I don't think so! The following week a precious little lime green, upright, European style "ride through the French countryside, picnicking on red wine and brie" kind of bike also inhabited our garage. That was followed quickly by a biking trailer to hold our brood. And we were set. We were officially a biking family.

Totally on the cutting edge of being a fun, fabulous and healthy family!

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