For my 7th birthday I asked my dad for a bike. I remember this bike oh so well. It was sea foam green and had pink and purple accents. A little doll basket in the front and tassels hanging from the handle bars. I removed the basket and tassels because they were just not my thing, but I LOVED my bike!
On the day of my party, I was very upset I do not recall the exact reason but I do remember sitting under my desk in my room crying and everyone trying to drag me into the kitchen to celebrate. I was not happy as a child at all. I felt like my life was one big mistake. Most of these feelings stemmed from my mother abandoning me and my dad getting married to a woman who clearly resented me (all though she had not become abusive yet at that point) I just knew she did not want me around by the way she treated me, talked to me, and even looked at me. It was very apparent that I was cramping her dream life style.
Once they dragged me out of my room and I saw my new bike (the exact one I asked for) I was so happy! Little things like new toys could make me happy for a few days before I went back to hating my existence. I think about that today and it kinda blows my mind, like what 7 year old would hate being alive? When you think of that age you think of kids that are care free and I almost want to say that a 7 year old could not even think that way but that is not true because I did.
The very next day my sister taught me how to ride with out training wheels. Yep that is right, not my dad or my mom. My sister who was 9. I was thankful for this. We had lots of fun learning and riding with our friends across the street Elizabeth and William.
The day came where I wanted to ride my bike to school. My school was a good mile from my house. We normally walked there, my sister and I because at the time Elizabeth was going to a different school that her mom worked at and William was not even in school yet. I think about this now and it seems kind of odd to me that my dad and his wife would let a 7 and 9 year old walk a mile to school everyday. But then again... it was 1998 and times were different. My younger sister is now 13 and they won't even let her walk to the bus stop alone! And that is literally 5 houses down from theirs. Crazy.
So, my sister and I rode our bikes to school. Mine was all nice and shiny and hers was old and rusty. Must have looked kinda odd. I wish they would have bought her a new bike too. Thinking back, it seemed pretty unfair. But at 7 you don't think about those sort of things.
I really enjoyed riding my bike but I was not really all that good at it yet, so I fell off... a lot! I remember going into school (I was in the first grade). And going straight to the clinic balling my eyes out screaming "I need a band-aid!" because I had skinned both my knees to all hell. I thought a band aid would make it feel all better lol. Silly how kids think. I always stopped crying as soon as I got one too.
After a while of this the nurse said to me something to the effect of "If you are going to keep falling off your bike every morning maybe you shouldn't ride it to school". This really upset me because I liked my bike and I loved riding it to school, not having to walk was so great to me. I agreed with her and left to my class.
The next day, I still rode my bike to school, but this time I packed band-aids in my backpack and when I fell off my bike, I took one out and put it on.
After a while I got a hang of the bike and no longer needed the band-aids and after some months maybe even a year my bike stopped working and my dad never did buy me a new one. So that was the end of my bike riding-to school days.
