Gypsy

God, was there every anything more liberating than a bike?  Last year, (and if I'm honest, the purchase was the result as a straight-up bribe) I bought Olivia this fantastic bike called the Gypsy, which is wonderful because her brother calls her Gypsy so she totally owns this bike now. I bought it because her confidence on a bike wasn't where a mom wants it to be and I knew at some point she'd really hope for the freedom a bike can offer a middle schooler and her friends.  So I bribed, she rose to the occasion, and I purchased.  Perfect.

I know you love when things begin with, "When I was a kid" so I'll tell you when I was a kid the best thing you could own was your bike.  Every day, except rainy ones I guess, involved pedaling to someone's house, or tying something to the back of a bike or hopping on to head to a fort built in the woods by other bike riding kids.  Mine was yellow with rainbow stickers and a banana seat.  I rocked it.  Mel had a 10 speed and I stole it sometimes if I wanted to be cooler, but managing the gears wasn't a priority so I usually went back to my trustworthy, sunshiny steed.  A bike meant you could be gone for hours, until mom called out for dinner. A bike meant you could go ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD if you wanted to so long as by anywhere you meant within my neighborhood.  God a bike was a ticket to freedom.

Now I have a teal blue bike and it has a basket and a bell, but it doesn't have stickers or a banana seat or even red leather streamers on the handle bars like Olivia's does.  It's just a bike so I can sometimes follow her around from a great distance on her lovely Gypsy bike and maybe stop by the post office or the market for a little something, but I don't love my blue bike.  I am in love with the Gypsy bike with the leather streamers and stitching and even more in love with the thought of our Gypsy on the Gypsy bike.  Even if it means she's pedaling away from me.