a tale of two bicycles

I don't remember much from my childhood. In fact, I don't remember much from high school, college, or anything else that happened more than 5 years in the past.

However, one strong memory I have of growing up involves these red & yellow bicycles. (the back tire of the yellow one is just visible in the left side of the picture next to my brother).

The yellow bike was a small one, and the one on which I learned to ride. Once I had grown, my parents bought me the red bike, and put training wheels on the yellow one for my brother. (They were still together at that point ... it seems SO strange to speak of them in the plural -- they divorced at about the time this picture was taken.)

The red bike was snazzy. It had gold flecks in the paint. (Even then, I thought gold was prettier than silver!). It never had a kick-stand, but other than that, it was the perfect little-girl bike.

But I couldn't enjoy it!

Why?

I felt sorry for the yellow bike. I was concerned that I was abandoning an old friend.

OK. Kids personify objects. Understandable.

But know what?

I still feel that way about my cars. :)

I went car shopping yesterday, and am going to Lansing today to look at a dealership my step-father likes.

But I just want Lil back!