When I was young, I had an awesome bike. It was the perfect bike, actually. But then my cousin threw it off the back of a truck and broke it. No more bike.
Then one of my birthdays rolled around. I was told to go grab something from my mother’s room, and there she was, this pink Huffy bike. This scary-looking, pink Huffy bike. It was much bigger than my perfect bike, and this one even had training wheels.
I pretended to get really excited by the bike. “Oh boy! Yay! Bike!” And then I returned to the present that I REALLY, REALLY loved: the Ms. Pac Man Atari cartridge. I was the Pac Man champ. This was even better.
Especially since every time I tried to ride this sucker, the metal on the pedals would cut up my heels and make me bleed. So I only used this bicycle in the backyard with my younger nieces and we would roll down a slight, VERY slight, incline. No pedaling required.
Ms. Pac Man was a lot less bloody. And it didn’t scar.
(googled photo from bmxmuseum.com)