Just Another Day

On a beautiful Saturday afternoon my husband and I decided to treat our two little girls, ages 3 and 6, to frozen yogurt. We don’t live far from the yogurt shop and we wanted to use the new walk/bike path to walk there, which is only a couple of blocks from our house. Our girls decided they would ride their bikes. I decided to put on my running shoes. My husband decided to bring our two 9-month-old puppies.

As we began walking, our 3-year-old started brake-checking her bicycle about every five feet. This irritated my 6-year-old who, at the first opportunity, sped around her younger sister and took off like a bullet. My husband and I remained confident that we had this bike-and-puppy parade under control. Our 6-year-old will lead, I next on foot, followed by our 3-year-old, with my husband and dogs bringing up the rear.

It took a block for our 3-year-old to tire of brake-checking. It took less than a block for my husband to commence public scolding. She ignored him. Our 3-year-old is challenging, stubborn and daring, a dangerous combo.

When we reached the first street to cross, our 3-year-old ran into the back of my legs with her bike as I’m helping my 6-year-old off of her bike. Our 6-year-old is afraid of the dips and feels more comfortable walking her bike across the street. Not our 3-year-old. If I had a dime for every time I had to say her name…

By the time we reached the path the girls were really moving. I ran to keep up. I looked back to see my husband picking up dog poop. Yep, puppies, they’re like little machines. As he was bent over trying earnestly to remove the poop from the concrete, I noticed a guy on a bike with two large dogs coming toward him. I’m the first to admit our dogs need socializing and they prove it time and time again, like this time. Our dogs went crazy when they saw the two dogs that easily out weighed them by fifty pounds each. The fierce little buggers pulled their leashes taught while my husband was bent over, nearly causing him to lose balance. I’m glad I was far enough away that he couldn’t hear me laugh.

Using the path was great, but at every block you must cross the street. Normally I don’t worry much about this as we have taught the girls to stop at the intersection and wait for one of us. At this point, I’m not running, but I’m walking quickly just in case one of the girls tried something. It was then that our 3-year-old tried something. She began rolling toward the street where a truck was cruising. I shouted for her to stop, but apparently she used up the brakes on the first block. As she rolled into the street, I managed to grab the back of her bike just in time. Luckily, the man in the truck saw what was happening and he had stopped.

The near miss didn’t phase the girls, clearly, and they once again took off, riding for all it was worth. I too took off in a jog but managed to look back to see my husband now picking up poop from our other dog. Just as I looked forward, I saw our 3-year-old turning to see if I was behind her. She craned her neck so hard that she turned the handlebars, jackknifing the bike and crashing to the ground. She fell so hard, her helmet flew off. She was crying hysterically and all I thought about was her head. I didn’t know if she hit it or not. I picked her up and with the exception of a couple of bumps and bruises, she was fine.

After we arrived, we picked a nice outdoor table to sit at with a fresh bowl of water for the dogs. We got our yogurts and enjoyed every bit. I personally had earned mine. The time at the yogurt shop was a nice, uneventful time if you didn’t count our 6-year-old nearly dropping her yogurt and one of the dogs eating a gummy bear off the ground, which ended up stuck in her hair.

As we headed home my husband asked me, “Do we still have the kids knee and elbow pads?” I cracked up laughing, I just couldn’t help myself.