I remember being in college, and walking around campus on the first warm days of spring while a group of college guys broke out their motorcycles (crotch rockets) for the season. I always thought it looked like so much fun, so exhilarating, and I always wanted a ride. I never knew anyone well enough to ask for a ride, so I never got one.
Recently, my youngest brother became one of those motorcycle riding college boys and yesterday I got my first ride on this.
I strapped on my helmet and climbed on behind my brother. I wrapped my arms around him as he pulled out of the driveway and began to accelerate down the highway. I was enjoying my ride until I made the mistake of looking at the speedometer. As I watched the speed steadily increase until we were going 80 mph, I got more and more nervous. All I could think about was that if we crashed going this speed, I would definitely die leaving Blue without a mom. I kept picturing myself flying through the air uncontrollably, and when my brother stopped to turn around, I told him not to go that fast on the way back. He laughed at me and asked if I was scared. I, unashamedly, admitted that I was.
He listened, and kept the bike much closer to the speed limit (55 mph) on the way back to my parents’ house. I learned a few things about myself during the 10 minute ride. First off, I should have tried harder to get a ride on a motorcycle before getting married and having baby. I think I would have enjoyed a lot more then. Secondly, I learned that my brother is kind of scrawny and doesn’t make for much to hold on to when going 80+ mph on a crotch rocket. Last of all, I learned that I’m the only Mom Blue has and I need to not do stupid things that could kill me because I want to be around to raise him!