16 Months is how long it took for my youngest son Chris (the same one that wrote the poem) to grow enough to ride a Bianchi Eros that I had. When I first brought it home he claimed it. Even though an older brother of his was already big enough, he said it was his.
I got her because she is just beautiful and I couldn’t bear to see her possibly get mistreated. So, she has hung in the rafters of the garage. Occasionally he would beg me to bring it down so he could try and straddle it. Finally I told him that “when he can touch the overhead door track” we would try again.
I don’t know if it was all just growth or if the constant leaping he has been doing in basketball but, he did it. He touched that track. So, today I brought down that pretty little lady and aired up the tires. He walked her down the drive a little way and threw his leg over.
I could tell right off that there was no way I would get him off again anytime soon. He may be up on his toes a bit but he can ride that 26″ wheeled little beauty and there is nothing that will separate them now.
He waited 16 months for this day.
I am not sure who is happier him, or me.