#ThrowbackThursday

Today is November 1st. NaNoWriMo starts. Good luck to all those poor souls that are attempting it. I will be joining you for this crazy ride this time around. First time. Totally improvising, so this will be fun. Please feel free to share your first NaNoWriMo experience in the comment section. It is ThrowbackThursday after all.

With that out of the way, I would like to go back to when I got my first bike. A real one. Not the one for kids with training wheels. The actual mountain bicycle only adults can ride.

I was about 8 years old and had some cash given to me by various family members. The money felt a bit overwhelming. It was so much money for someone who only bought comics or sweets. Although I knew I could keep my money safe, I gave it up when my dad suggested he be the bank. He was an adult, so he must have known what he was doing. That was how my brain operated. However, that was probably the first time I felt that sting of losing my “hard earned” money. One minute it was in my hands, the next one it was not. I never wanted to feel that again.

In the following days, weeks, months, whenever I wanted to get myself something, I would go to my dad and ask him for MY money. He would reply: “What money?”, trying not to laugh. We both knew what money we were talking about. However, while he knew that I was never going to get that money back, I thought that it was his way of telling me: “Do not waste your money on THAT”.

As the time went along, I did get a little bit bitter, knowing that money was lost, but my mom cheered me up saying that I would get a present bought with that money. It was taking so long because the present cost more than I actually had, so they had to save some more money. On top of the money I surrendered.

When I got a bike, I was over the moon. It was shiny and new (unlike the ones my friends’ hand-me-downs). When my bike was delivered, two other bikes were also dropped off. One for my mom, one for my dad. It finally made sense. My money helped pay for the whole family’s bicycles. As a kid, I was a little upset that MY money was used to get something for someone ELSE, other than me, but my parents assured me that the memories we would create while riding as a family would be invaluable.

How long did it take me to learn how to ride it? I do not remember. Of course, I had a smaller bike before that I knew how to operate, but having a grown up bike at the age of 8 required additional learning. My dad thought me a bit, but otherwise, I just practiced with my friends.

That bike is still there in my family home…

Do you remember getting your first adult bike?

As a kid, did you hold onto your own money, or did your parents keep it “safe” for you?

Stay golden,

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