…and don’t call it a Moped
It’s inevitable, Woman! Tomorrow the two year old and I will head to the motorcycle shop to scope out our new bike. While I don’t know for sure how I will purchase said bike, it will be mine none the less.
I should preface this with the whole “My grandfather and uncle were involved in a serious motorcycle accident many years ago so no one in the family wants us to get a bike,” story. But who needs that over their heads? Besides, My uncle has secretly purchased his own motorcycle (in red) recently without any permission from the Family. And, it’s not like we didn’t grow up with dirt bikes, quads and other street bikes. So we’re getting it. The foot’s coming down.
*Disclaimer: this bike, along with my plans to purchase vast quantities of powered sports equipment has nothing to do with my manly virility, security or sadness due to lack of length. Seriously. Nor does my plan to purchase an Audi RS6. Did I mention I want a car, too?
