I want ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle

Bicycle, father and sonBicycle was stolen

Realizing my bicycle was stolen a few weeks ago was a familiar sinking feeling followed by impotent rage.

I have a special attachment to my main mode of transportation.

I only got a driver license because my wife demanded it before having a baby.

She was not reassured by my suggestion of strapping her to a bike trailer. I held back on suggesting she could just pedal herself.

I’ve been pedaling as long as I can remember.

The big wheel was pure fun, but when I got a bicycle I got freedom. I remember in Hawaii riding my new bike the morning after Christmas barefoot and still wearing my pajamas.

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