Training Wheels

"Daddy! But can you just put them back on?" It's been over six months since your fourth birthday, Sophie. It's time for them to go.

"Nope. You're a big girl. You can pedal and steer just fine, and it will be much easier to ride the bike without the training wheels." And I don't know if my back can take another half hour of pushing you a quarter mile to the mailbox and home again. Training wheels and rutted out gravel driveways go together like dogs and ice cream.

"But Daddy! I'm NOT very big!" You've got to be kidding me. You get heavier by the mile.

"Yes, you are. You already zoom around on your scooter without any training wheels at all." And you have the band-aids on your knees to prove it.

"But Daddy! Can you just put them back on?" Sorry Sophie. You know the McFarland Law of Bicycles: You get a bike for your fourth birthday, and you have to be riding it - without training wheels - before your fifth. Well, maybe you don't know it. But that's the rule. Ask Grandpa if you don't believe me.

"I'll hold on the whole time. I won't let you fall. Let's get your helmet." We never had helmets when I was a kid. It's a wonder we made it to double digits.

"The pink cat one?" Yes, the Pink Cat One. The one that screams, 'I'm a girly-girl, and I have all the pink accessories to prove it!'

"Pull your hair back so I can snap it. No, pull it back out of your face. There we go."

"Don't let go, Daddy! Whatever you do, do NOT let go!" Yes, Your Highness. "Daddy! It's too fast! What if I crash!"

"I've got you - I'm hanging on to your shirt. You can feel it. Don't take your feet off the pedals! Don't look at the ditch - you'll drive right into it!" I think we waited too long to take those things off. You've been ready for this a while. All I'm doing is holding the back of your shirt - you're doing it, girl.

"Daddy! Don't let go!"

Two days later...

"OK, ready to go for another bike ride?"

"Oh, yes! Let me get my helmet on." Oh, yes.

"Remember, keep your feet on the pedals, look where you're go..."

"Daddy, I can do it." Oh, really? We'll see.

"Alright, alright!" Maybe I'll just barely hold on - just in case.

"Daddy, let go! I can do it myself!" OK, have it your way. Well. How about that. You can do it yourself.

"Daddy, I said let go!" Was I holding on again?

What if you lose your balance, though? What if you fall down and scrape your knees? Look where you're going! Keep your feet on the pedals! What if you start going too fast and can't stop? Sophie, slow down! What if you grow up before I can blink and become beautiful like your mother and sing like an angel and have a family of your own and change the world? Be careful! I can't keep up with you!

"Look at me, Daddy! I'm doing it!"

"Yes, you are. You're doing it."