Boys on Bikes

It was a warm, sunny afternoon as I was on my way back to the office on my lunch hour. (I truly enjoy getting out of the office and going home for lunch whenever I can).

I sat in my vehicle at a stop light at a rather busy intersection – a junction where my quiet village neighborhood meets its bustling little downtown of grocery, shops, cafés and restaurants. Then I noticed three little boys on their bikes waiting at the light to cross in front of me. Two were about six or seven years old and the third one, tagging along with them, was about four. They were blond and adorable and I wondered to myself if I would be having a son in the near future.

Then I heard one of the older ones say, “Come on, we can go now,” and with that, they began to get on their bikes and start heading across the street. They didn’t look to their left. That’s when I saw a car charging ahead through the amber light, clipping along at a pretty good speed to get through the light in time. The car was headed right toward the boys.

It was one of those perfunctory moments for me - when animal instinct, that deeply embedded knee-jerk impulse, takes over without volition. My hand flipped up and my mouth opened as frantic sound came pouring out. “Stop! Don’t go! Don’t go!” The voice didn't sound like mine at all but the phantom voice of a faithfully departed crossing guard who lingers around for times like this. The boys looked at me and halted as the car came to a screeching stop.

They stared wide-eyed at the car, mouths open. The driver resumed onward at a much slower speed, appearing relieved. One of the boys said, “Wo! That was close.”

When the coast was clear, they crossed in front of me on their bikes. That’s when I noticed the little one, the blond 4-year-old on his tiny bike gazing up at me. He kept looking at me as they rode away. He looked somewhere between shocked, frightened and relieved, with a slight smile on his face.

Nothing stood a chance of ruining my mood after that episode and the feeling lasted all weekend.

View from my bike

Two little boys around the age of six are in their front yard, making a ruckus and totally digging it. One of them has a pointy, plastic sword and he's swinging the holy crap out of it. He's aiming for the other boy.

Out from the house storms a tiny girl around four years old, messy hair, dirty face, petite hands firmly on her little hips - her sundress hangs to mid-calf.

"Mommy says you aren't saaaapose to play with that, Billy," she chimes in.

"Yeah? Well she's not here," he responds.

"But you know she says that. She says sommmmmebody's gonnnnna get hit in the EYE or somethin' like that."

"Quit bossing me!" he says glancing at his little sister, sword still in full swing.

He quickly looks back at his little buddy but it's too late. WAKKKK!

Billy had accidentally knocked the other kid hard in the forehead with the sword. The kid yelps and runs off crying for his house next door, palm to his tear-streaked face.

The little girl turns to her big brother, now with one hand on her righteous hip.

"Don't even say ANYTHING!" Billy bellows and storms off.

Quelled Qualms

Failing to return a bad pair of pants
Not standing up to the mean CEO’s rants
Choosing to bake in the damaging sun
Electing to slave without snagging some fun
Eating a burger instead of fresh salad
Settling down for the mundane and pallid
Performing housework instead of writing
Lingering in shadows in lieu of bright lighting
Wishing after the party I had allowed myself cake
Thinking that maybe I appeared as a fake
Resolving to find several self-faults
Forgetting the fun in doing somersaults
Letting an employer decide on my school
Believing in lies conveyed by a fool
Choosing not to be my very own boss
Allowing dilution of my own special sauce
Watching TV when I could have been reading
Following the masses instead of leading
Existing too frightened to take vital risk
Neglecting today as finite and brisk
Believing a lie that I was born second class
Permitting oppression and revolting trespass
Trusting that frolic must stop with age
Escaping luckily that conditioning cage
Awakening now to salient road
Tasting fateful seeds generations have sowed
Realizing that life is too short for regrets
Living a series of edifying vignettes
Resolving to take credit and blame
Be accountable for my best and accepting my lame
Love myself fully and do all that I can
…and wear protection when crap hits the fan

note: Thankfully – I can see when my mistakes have been made in life. I sure hope I can correct them before I’m too old.