It was very possible that I would lay a giant egg if I heard the kid utter the words, "I don't wanna go! Bike riding is soooo boring!" one more time. After five years of happily riding behind Mr. Husband aboard a bike trailer several times per week, the kid was suddenly really very over it.
How THAT for an old photo?
So, I did the only logical thing I could think of and bought her an attachment for his bike to turn it into a bicycle built for two. The idea was that she would be able to pedal, too, as she looked around and was more active in the biking process. I mean, she could have ridden her own bike under her own power, but that would require us to move at the pace of a gimpy snail and we'd have to stop and look around every four inches any time we had to go down a tiny incline. Alexis is too much of a scaredy pants to ride a bike like a normal human being (unless she's riding in the house--in that case she's confident she can stop just fine because she can always run into a wall).
So, bicycle built for two it was.
The calculated risk paid off big time. Alexis LOOOOOOVES it. She yells, "Wahooo!" and "Go faster!" and "THIS IS THE FUNNEST DAY OF MY LIFE!" all along our usual ten-mile ride. She was so joyous about her new biking situation that I thought it would be a fantastic idea to give Mr. Husband a break from dragging her behind him for the first time ever.
Two things. 1) If you remove 70 pounds from behind a guy's bike, he'll decide he's Lance Armstrong. 2) If you add 70 pounds to the back of my bike, I'll decide I feel entirely too much like the nut Lance Armstrong had to cut off.
Me no likey extra weight, it seems. Honestly, though, it's totally fine when Alexis pedals. She completely manages to counter her own weight. When she stops pedaling, though, things get ugly. And what exactly would make her stop pedaling?
How about a bug flying into her hand? Yup, that'll do it. Even better, the tiny little gnat that grazed her knuckles was accused of making her bleed in between sobs and cries. When the bug made contact, the kid let out a scream that probably stopped traffic for miles around. I know my blood ran cold, but then began to boil when she explained why she was dramatically reenacting a scene from a horror flick. It didn't leave so much as a freckle. Nothing. The only thing the gnat hurt was my sanity.
After the bug incident, Alexis and I finally started working our way down the trail again when she suddenly let out a shriek that I can only compare to the sound Justin Bieber would make if he woke up bald one morning. The entire universe paused to see if the kid was on her death bed. SURELY she was because the sound that escaped her mouth was most certainly a sign of the apocalypse.
Or not.
She had discovered that she was missing an earring.
A TRAVESTY.
As Alexis sobbed and cried and generally had a nervous breakdown, I helped her off of the bike and began walking with her in search of the earring. We walked and walked and walked, scouring the earth for sign of the shiny little stud. All the while Alexis kept apologizing and crying and generally breaking my heart because she was SO convinced that Santa Claus would never forgive her for losing the earring he had given her.
I offered to text Santa and ask for a replacement, but she said the elves needed a vacation. We HAD to find the original.
Twenty minutes later, we still hadn't found the earring. I had finally convinced the sad little person that all would be well. We could buy her a new pair of earrings, but in the meantime, she had others at home that would be just fine. We got on the bike and caught up with Mr. Husband. Our ride that night was a full half hour longer than usual.
And SO full of drama.
Two things. 1) Never again. 2) NEVER AGAIN.
Oh, and we found an envelope in our mailbox the next day. On the outside, carefully written in our neighbor's handwriting, was a little message:
Alexis' earring. We found it on the trampoline. :-)
NEVER AGAIN.