We have bicycles. In a word they are flamboyant. We will never mistake our bikes for other peoples. Mine, “the panther” (the manufacturers chose the clever name, not me) is hot pink. It has a comfy seat for WanderBoy in the back. WanderPapa’s is candy apple red with the word “Sweet” written in large letters and plenty of swirly flowery design on every surface. It has a seat for WanderGirl in front and WanderBoy in back.
I’m not going to lie to you, I was livid when I saw these bikes. I might have said things like, “How could you choose that girly red flowery *%$# thing … what is wrong with you?”
After venting via email to my gals back at home, I calmed down enough for him to explain the good deal that he got and that these were the only bikes with the features we wanted. Still…
We had fun riding to the pool. Our new landlady drove by and tooted the horn of her SUV. Kind of shaking her head. I said to WPapa, “She must be thinking what is with these weird farangs (foreigners)?” I said, “We are like Peter Pan, we’ll never grow up.” We still aren’t the cool kids, the bikes prove that, but we’re having fun.
