Friday, February 8, 2008

The Razor or the Couch

The weather has finally gotten better. It's not raining and quite a bit warmer. So I'm thinking it’s time for a ride. But where? I've got it; I'll pick my daughter, Lee, up from school. She will love it; her very cool Dad on his very cool Harley will ride up looking like a cross between James Dean and Steve McQueen. All the other kids will be green with envy.
I decide to leave the LaPera seat on because it's much cooler and it’s only a short way home. Clearly a good trade off, coolness for comfort. I know she will agree.
So as I arrive I notice that things are not quite the same as my mental image. Lee is not looking excited, whoa, she's not even looking enthusiastic. More whoa, she does not look happy. What's up?
"Dad, I hate that seat, it is so uncomfortable." She gets on. "Dad, I hate it when you pick me up on the motorcycle." There is a sound of tires skidding on dry pavement inside my head. "It is so embarrassing," she says.
"I thought your friends would think it would be so cool to have your Dad pull up on a bike to pick you up."
"None of my friends think motorcycles are cool," she says.
I'm thinking that maybe dinosaurs are not extinct and that I may be one, we pull away, then she says, "can we take the long way home?"

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