In the past week, Eli, now nearly 8, learned to ride a bike. Personally, I can't believe it. Either can he. Tonight we were laying on the bed together, chatting after a long, wonderful summer Sunday. He said, "Boy, Mom, I am so relieved, I was beginning to think I was going to be an adult and not know how to ride a bike!" I chuckled and admitted that the same thought might have fluttered through my brain. Then he added, "And yesterday, when I could ride, but I couldn't get started without help, I was thinking to myself...boy, I will know how to bike as an adult, but I will have to go knock on my neighbor's door and ask them to come out and help me get started! I sure am glad that I got that figured out too." So now I keep getting this image of my wonderful adult son deciding he wants to bike off to the grocery store, but he has to go get the neighbor to help him get started down the alley, and then get the guy who carries the groceries out to get him going back home. I shared this vision with Eli and we had a hearty chuckle. I love dearly that he is so willing to laugh at himself. He is truly a gem.
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