I half-mock myself by mentioning how I am saving up for "my bike." Every time I have gotten a noteworthy amount saved up in my piggy bank.... Yes, I have an actual piggy bank - it belonged to the boys when they were little. They pulled out the black plug years ago, but other than that it is perfectly serviceable. So it now lives on its back in my armoire where it patiently waits for me to put all spare change into the gaping hole in its pink belly.
Anyway, the money always seems to go to something for my kids. Swim lessons, shoes, books. I have wondered if I have a self-defeating martyrdom complex going on which succeeds in my never attaining my bike. And I can't quite make up my mind which one it would be. Even now, I'm not sure if it's this one exactly. I peruse Electra's and Trek's websites, toggling back and forth, reading reviews and looking for the sales that never are. Cream, green, or pink? A leather seat? Definitely has to have a basket. This would put me back a pretty piece of change, and the ever practical me always imagines as I consider this purchase. How sick would I be to come out of the grocery store to find such an expensive treasure stolen? Do you ever think of things like that?
This is a complete indulgence, plain and simple. I can talk about how I'd use it for grocery shopping and get all this exercise and blah, blah, blah. The plain and simple truth is that I just adore the quaint, practical, beauty of these bikes and they make me feel more like Corrie Ten Boom, Elisabeth Elliot, and the little girl I once was.
If I ever bring you home, I'll take a pic and show everyone. But for today, I'll carefully, lovingly, and longingly place you gently into my box. I can almost hear the trill of your bell.