So, yesterday Erik walks up to me and asks me to take his training wheels off. I think, why not? So out come the wrenches and I take them off. I tell Erik to get his helmet on, we go out to the sidewalk, I help Erik up onto the seat. He puts his feet on the pedals, I tell him to start pedalling and give him a push. I thought for a second about holding on and helping him along, but then I got this slightly sadistic desire to watch and see if he wipes out.
So, I let go.
And what does that little turkey do? He rides to the end of the block, puts on the brakes, and falls over. Gets up, and yells for help to get going again. I jog over, give him another push, and off he goes back to where he started. Just like that, my 4 year old boy decides to give up training wheels and ride like the big boys.
Ok, he still can't start on his own. And most of the rides end up with a small wipeout when he forgets to put his feet down after he brakes. But something happened at that moment.
I felt pride swell.
It's a good feeling. I stood a little taller. My voice got a little louder. The sun was brighter, the grass was greener. It was cool.