Sunday, April 17, 2016

Family Dynamics: Don't Cross Here

I love what's going on in this photo

I was thinking today as I rode around alone on a warm, sunny April Sunday afternoon, that I couldn't remember a single instance from my childhood when my dad took the family out for a leisurely Sunday afternoon bike ride. It wasn't his thing. He did other things with us, took us out for dinner, shot hoops in the driveway with my friends and I, but no bike rides.

Although bikes weren't his thing, they were clearly mine, looking back. I've owned at least one bike continuously since I was six years old. Cumulatively, I've owned way more bikes than cars. Counting up ones that were exclusively mine, I would put it at twelve bikes, vs. one used car and one new car. Currently, the bikes to cars ratio is infinite, divide by zero error, since I don't own a car that is exclusively mine (should I count the family car as .25 mine?). I didn't realize this bike focus of mine consciously, though, until well into my adulthood, and I wonder if it would have awakened in me much earlier if pops had noticed how much I rode around, and had come up with a weekend family bike ride idea back then. Even though it wasn't his thing.

I wonder if the photo above shows do-gooder daughter following the signage directions while wildcat mom waits for a break in traffic to shoot across. Dad kind of hanging out in the middle to see which way the wind blows.

Daughter follows signage

Then daughter does what mine usually do, which is head off where their will dictates, knowing that the rest will probably follow. Mom, with the child seat between her arms, decides not to frogger through traffic, while dad repositions to follow the family current.

Dad, if they have blogger wherever it is you are now, this was not meant to be critical. Rather, it was a reflection on family dynamics, and looking inward about my own lack of suggesting a leisurely weekend bike ride with the family once in a while. I will offer gelato in the bargain, and they will go for it, I'm certain. Whether or not my kids end up being nebulous bike freaks like their father or not, it's the kind of memory I'd like them to have some day.

For the record, we may be the family that does not use the underpass. We may just cross right there.   

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