Learning.

Last evening we went to the park. (But not the one next door.) Erikboy had worn through his tire and popped the tube- so he settled for a ride in the stroller. Robs was taking her bike out for the maiden voyage sans training wheels, and by two minutes in she was more than a little frustrated. From a couple feet back I could see her little torso trying to balance her upper half, while her head was trying to get her legs where she wanted them. She'd look down to find her pedals, and then the handlebars would turn and she'd roll to the side. I could tell it was maddening.

I tried to help, but it did nothing. Words are almost as helpful as monkeys when it comes to riding a bike. Ten painful minutes later I clued in and stopped spilling suggestions.

But we made it to the park. And played. And then it was time to come home. Robs got back on her bike and Erikboy settled in for the walk back. (Squish started screaming.) 

"Robs," I said, "I want you to pedal as fast as you can."

So she did. 

And I ran to keep up.

The park is about a mile from our house- she flew the whole way home. When we got there she did a couple figure eights and rode over a bump to show Steve just how well she could ride a bike.

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Thank you Robs.  Lesson learned.