Big boy biker

Already in England, when he was four, Pip was begging me to teach him to ride a "big boy bike" -- i.e. a two-wheeler without training wheels. We didn't have a bike for him then, and we've been relatively busy since, what with moving to California and all. And there's really no good place to ride here in Sunland, auto reclamation capital of Southern California.

But he got it into his head again last week that he wanted to learn to ride. So he's spent a bit of time working on his balance on his own, practicing in what passes for our "driveway" here -- all 20 yards of it. Today I took him to the church parking lot, took off the training wheels, and was ready to tell him what he needed to know: keep pedaling, you're doing a great job, hold the handlebars steady, you're doing a great job, lean into the turn, you're doing a great job, watch out for that tree, you're doing a great job.

Well, I got the bike out of the car, put it down on the pavement, and turned my back for a minute to get my sunglasses and soda. I turned around, and there was Pip, already aboard and pedaling like a pro right from the start. He tooled around the parking lot like he'd been doing it his whole life. "Hey!" I yelled... "Um.... Er.... You're doing a great job!"