Biking Bradley

For several months (like 8) we have been trying to get Bradley to ride his bike without training wheels.

Every time we would get it out of the garage he would sit on it for a minute,

take a look around and then quickly get off and go inside.

What's your deal, dude?

If your big ol' pregnant mama is offering to huff down the street 

holding you upright 

the least you can do is try.

After many attempts, I did what any good mother would do.

I gave up.

I let that dirty rotten Spiderman bike sit in the corner of the garage collecting dust.

So of course,

as all rotten children do,

the other day he walked over to that bike,

rolled it out of the garage,

(you know where this is going)

got on and rode away.

Just.like.that.

Say what?!

There was no audience.

No expectations.

No mother in her flip flops running all hunched over to keep him upright.

There was just me,

standing at the top of the driveway doing a victory dance 

and wondering if he was going to bite his tongue off out of sheer concentration.

The longer I watched, the more amazed I was at 

A) how prevelant certain genetic traits can be, 

and B) how his lips were not incredibly chapped. 

I mean seriously,

that tongue was moving back and forth at lightning speed.

I took dozens of quick succession pictures and it appears that your brain and body function better if you've got your tongue hanging out.

Right Dave?  And Dave's Dad?  And my own Mother?  

And who knows how many other countless relatives?

Whatever the case, I was quite proud of my boy.

He does things on his own terms.

But when he decides he is ready - he is very ready.

We love him.

Even if he doesn't believe in wearing shoes.

Or his, um, helmet?!