Biker Chick
Today was the day. I sat up confidently in my four-post bed, looked out the large glass window with a smile on my six-year-old face, and saw a beautiful spring morning. The birds sang with the sweetest of voices, their melodies like that of a divine orchestra. Today was a perfect time for me to leave my training wheels in the garage, and to ride a bicycle. I ran outside to daddy who was working hard in the backyard. His brown skin glistened in the sun as he straightened his back to see his youngest daughter before him with a look of great anticipation. "Daddy," I said in my most pleasant voice, "Could you take the training wheels off of my bike today?"
He took a few seconds before answering, "Yes." I jumped up with glee as if I'd just won a trip to Disney World. This was one step closer to being a big girl. After daddy removed the training wheels, I hopped onto the bike, which a wobble and collapse quickly followed.
"How about you wait until I'm finished with some yard work before you kill yourself?" My dad joked as he lovingly messed up the wispy blonde hairs on my head, causing them to fill with static and float in the air like wheat stalks caught in a breeze. This response didn't make me very happy, considering all I wanted to do was ride that bike like all of the older girls on my block. I quietly, yet grudgingly, walked off into the house and sat on my bed staring at the day passing me by. I couldn't stand it! I had to show everyone that I could ride a bicycle.
I independently walked into my garage and used all of my strength to pick up my pink and white bicycle. I kicked out the kickstand so I could snatch my matching pink and white helmet. With a determined look in my large almond eyes, I wheeled the bike to a hill in the grass of my yard, took a deep breath and straddled the seat. I lightly pushed off with my toe, proving to be just enough to set me off down the hill, at least 5 feet down, anyway, before I fell over. I must have fallen dozens of times before I finally rode smoothly all the way down my hill. After that one soft ride, I was able to go down again and again just like it. I was thrilled! I leaped off of my bike and ran to every house in my neighborhood, knocking on the doors telling everyone of my great accomplishment! I knocked on George's, my 86 year-old neighbors, door to tell him the great news. He opened the door and I told him all about it. "You know what Sonja," he said as he handed me one of his famous sugar cookies with a proud smile. "Only a natural biker chick would be able to do that."