Black Friday ride (and a sweater dress)

The day after Thanksgiving found us expending our energy rather than spending money. It was the longest bike ride yet we've attempted with our five-year-old on her own bike rather than in the trailer. And it may have been a bit overambitious.

Our bike riding enthusiast, though easily distracted (and with an inevitably itchy nose that must be scratched an average of two times every block we ride), is a trooper. She thrills at moving herself from point A to point B on a bike. I'm her enthusiastic cheerleader each morning as I bike alongside her, pulling the trailer behind. She's her own coach, willing herself on with shouts of "Come on, come on, you can do it!", "Almost there!", and "Don't stop! Don't stop!". That day that, careening down a hill, she shouted out "I'm free as a bird!" was classic.

But oh, those inevitable mornings that we're running late for school and she has to ride in the trailer... the accompanying grumpiness is a bit over the top as well.

I'm not sure if it was the unfamiliar bike route (and the accompanying novelties that distracted her), or the preceding day of Thanksgiving festivities and travel, but she was struggling on this blackest of all Fridays. Our suggestion that we simply lock her bike to a tree and she continue on in the trailer was not an option for her. Until it was. Beaten, she defeatedly climbed in. But the next moment was in tears, desperate to go home rather than ride in the trailer of shame. Some crackers and clementines smoothed things over enough so that we could finish the ride.

Her younger sister, though, seemed blissfully unaware for the most part of her sister's turmoil. Her feet stuck out of the trailer as she reclined back in her chariot, snug in her homemade sweater dress.