Little Man, Hubby, and Princess

The same day Little Man conquered the modified hurdle stretch, we agreed that he would bike, and I would run for a few miles. The biggest obstacle was that Little Man's bike had been winterized and was currently hanging upside down like a bat from the ceiling of Hubby's Man Cave.

Feeling brave, we slipped and slid over the ice covered snow, finally reaching Hubby's Man Cave filled to the brim with Man Toys. Little Man's excitement mounted as I punched the secret code numbers that would gain us precious access to Hubby's Man Cave and Little Man's bike. Surveying the scene, we discovered that Little Man's bike had in fact been hung upside down for winter storage...above Hubby's zero-turn lawnmower and his sparklingly spotless fishing boat.

Knowing Hubby all too well, Little Man and I understood the dangers of going near either of these prized possessions, in case we might leave a fingerprint, or worse yet, a scratch on either. Formulating a plan and feeling confident about that plan, Little Man supervised as I approached. It was simple. I would let down the front of the bike, reposition myself, unhook the back of the bike, and with Little Man's help, we would deliver it safely to the floor.

Stepping gingerly onto the seat of Hubby's lawnmower, I reached for the front tire of Little Man's bike. With my feet planted firmly on the lawnmower's glorious silver naugahide seat, I reached forward. I lifted the front end of Little Man's bike, untangling the spokes, and removed the wheel from its hook.

Then, faster than I could process, the screw holding the bike batlike for the winter reached for its freedom, and Little Man's bike came plummeting towards me. Losing my footing and for the first time in my life loving Hubby's beautiful, tall fishing boat, I reached out and desparately wedged my elbow into the point of its pretty little nose. A split second later, I realized that I had become a Little Man/Hubby sandwich with Hubby's zero-turn lawnmower serving as the bottom slice of bread, and Little Man's bike capping off the top.

Little Man stood there, mouth hanging open, eyes uncomprehending at first. He was the first to recover, and with his curious mind working overtime, Little Man asked,

Mom, is this a good time to say CRAP?

Uh Huh, I croaked.

Well then, OH CRAP!

A few pounds of bike and a good dose of ibuprofen later, Little Man and I started out on our next adventure.