This weekend Benjamin discovered that if he took his tricycle to the top of our front yard he could zoom all the way down the little hill, down the driveway and then take a hard right turn onto the sidewalk. He nearly flipped twice. So after his nap on Saturday it was off to Target – to find a safe replacement – one with rubber wheels and more weight.
Our pick: the Huffy Thomas Lo Rider Bicycle.
When Benjamin saw the box he started jumping up and down, “Train! Thomas! Traaaiinnn…chooooo…biiiikkkkkeee! More? More? More?”
“Okay, baby.” I know, I know – I’m a sucker.
But it’s only the Thomas obsession. Gets me every time. And the box said it had rubber coated wheels. It’ll do, and if not, I’ll just sell it on Craigslist and find a different one.
So we buy it. We come home, jump out of the car and open the box. His two-year-old ameba brain is, of course, expecting a bike to pop out. Mine is more prepared.I have my little screw driver, my hammer (don’t know why I grabbed a hammer) and some scissors.
And then, there it is. A pile of pieces. This is easy? I tried to breath, it had been a long day…a very long day. And for a split moment I actually wished I had a husband to help. But I sucked it up and dove in.
The two page instruction manual was useless. There weren’t even clear labels or illustrations of each part. Yes, guys, I need them to tell me what each little screw, nut and bolt is. Then Benjamin took off with the bicycle seat and two tires. He stopped at the front porch where he knelt down and started hammering the tires ferociously into the pavement. BANG. BANG. BANG. I think he was trying to help.