bikeride

Most of the time I start a scrapbook page because there is something I want to say. I have a story to tell or a proclamation to make or processing to do. But this time I just liked the photos, plain and simple. Watching Andrew ride his bike is so stinkin' adorable to me. His helmet is too small and his bike is a little too big and it all comes together in such a mis-matched way that it gives the impression that he is pretending. It just ends up looking so very little kid.

And maybe that is what I should have said.

But instead I said this:

When I was growing up I rode my bike down the driveway and around the neighborhood. But I grew up in the suburbs of D.C. For you to go on a bike ride, Andrew, we have to be intentional about it. Sometimes we load it into the back of the car to drive to a park, or in the case, the promenade, so you can ride. But the payoff is a gorgeous backdrop and a lively atmosphere. I imagine at some point you'll ride alone. But not for a long, long time.



I'm sure I can talk about how stinkin' cute is another time. ;)