Bicycles, trains, and motorcycles

Yesterday morning I met my pajama-clad six-year-old in the downstairs hallway.

“Good morning, honey.  Did you have a good sleep?”

“Hi.  Fine.”  He came to the foot of the stairs.  “I can’t ride my bicycle up those,” he observed.

“Would you like me to carry it up for you?”  I held out my hands.

“No, no,” he replied mildly.  “I’ll take the train.”  He began pushing invisible buttons on the wall beneath the bannister.

Thomas, on his dad's friend's motorcycle

Thomas, on his dad’s friend’s motorcycle

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s