He started out a little squished thing wrapped in a blue bunny rug. Grew into a pretty toddler with blonde curls cascading to the point where Granny's asked 'her' name. He rode a pedalless plastic horsey and made raspberry noises to the point where dribble made his chin go red. He graduated to training wheels and soon managed a two-wheeler and demanded to ride it to school across busy roads. I reluctantly agreed. Then he stretched out a bit and wanted more excitement so the Giant mountain bike was his best friend until he was old enough to drive. It gave him practice on the lumps and bumps and high school steps. Grazed elbows and knees seemed perpetual but the sweaty smile of a hard ride made his face light up. Then came the motorised version . . . he's a natural . . . he no longer dribbles on his chin but my heart jumps into my throat when I see pictures of him doing tricks off a 40 foot ramp. Whatever happened to my little dribbly tricycle man?
I'm getting into this Snaptober, I mean
Phoctober thing!
He started out a little squished thing wrapped in a blue bunny rug. Grew into a pretty toddler with blonde curls cascading to the point where Granny's asked 'her' name. He rode a pedalless plastic horsey and made raspberry noises to the point where dribble made his chin go red. He graduated to training wheels and soon managed a two-wheeler and demanded to ride it to school across busy roads. I reluctantly agreed. Then he stretched out a bit and wanted more excitement so the Giant mountain bike was his best friend until he was old enough to drive. It gave him practice on the lumps and bumps and high school steps. Grazed elbows and knees seemed perpetual but the sweaty smile of a hard ride made his face light up. Then came the motorised version . . . he's a natural . . . he no longer dribbles on his chin but my heart jumps into my throat when I see pictures of him doing tricks off a 40 foot ramp. Whatever happened to my little dribbly tricycle man?
I'm getting into this Snaptober, I mean Phoctober thing!
Ah a coochie coochie coo.
ReplyDeleteDaz: You're mummy loves you the same way! Her heart jumps into her throat every time you catch that bus to UCD.
ReplyDeleteThose are brilliant and such well captured shots, Baino! Super cool!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I've awarded you a smile over at my place ;-)
Thanks Vanilla . . . can't ever have too many smiles. Actually, I can't claim to be the photographer here. I can't bring myself to watch his shenanigins. One of the biker boys took them. He loves his toy tho!
ReplyDeleteHe's insane! If motorcycles were meant to fly they would have wings.
ReplyDeleteTell him to try something more normal, like road racing.
Have him go buy a Triumph Speed Triple 1050 and map out a three mile course through downtown Sydney and go drive it in excess of 125mph. Now that's fun!
I don't know if my Elly rode/drove bikes like those but she did play rugby on an all male team against an all male team a time or two.
ReplyDeleteThankfully it was in France so I didn't have to watch, or better still , wash the filthy muddy gear!
Brianf: it's my great fear that he will buy a road bike! Safer with armour in a paddock I think.
ReplyDeleteGrannyMar: sometimes ignorance is bliss!
Great shots, Baino. Whether you took them or not, thanks for sharing them with us.
ReplyDeleteBut he is so cute!
ReplyDeleteMT: I'm loving being a voyeur and met a fellow antipodean thanks to Phoctoctober
ReplyDeleteRyan: Get a room! Are you the Ryan that just linked me on Facebook?
Ryan. That last comment was me. Adam didn't sign out I hate that!
ReplyDelete