Magic

Off with the training wheels. It's time. Heck, it's past time. He's so big now that when he leans the training wheels actually bend.

So it's time to suit up. I never had pads or a helmet. I have the scars and brain damage to prove it, but today we know better. We can protect them. Only one thing left to do, wrap him in packing bubbles and hope he can pedal wrapped up.

This might be the first big thing for me. He has to go to school in the fall, but in many ways teaching him to ride his bike without training wheels is a symbolic step to independence, to the exhiliration and joy of freedom. The wind in his hair, speed through the power of his own two legs, great speeds, the world whizzing by. I'm familiar with it.

I'll let go, he'll crash. I'll let go, he'll crash. He may want to give up, but he'll go again and when he gets it the feeling will seem like magic. Heck, it will be magic. Maybe letting go isn't so bad.