Nearly every Sunday of my childhood, if my parents drove separate cars to church, we could expect a road race on the way home. As we would drive away from church my mom would turn right and my dad would keep driving straight. That was the unspoken signal for, "The race is ON!" My siblings and I would scream and yell in the backseat for my dad to drive faster, hurry up, turn here, go go GO! The rest of my siblings that were riding with my mom would be doing the same thing in the other car. Mind you, both of my parents were raised in New Jersey, and thirty years after moving away from there, my dad still continues to drive like he is cruising down crowded highways, weaving in and out of traffic, honking the horn and speeding through yellow (red) lights. Yes indeed, two cars driven by nicely dressed adults, could be seen squealing down quiet residential streets at 45 mph in a mad race to be first in our driveway on west sixth street.
So Lars was riding in the front with Leah and Emilia. I was pulling up the rear with Heidi in the trailer behind my bike and Naomi beside me. At the corner a few blocks from home, my Father's DNA started racing through my veins and I yelled, "Beat you home!" I turned down a side street and took off with Heidi squealing in the trailer and Naomi shouting, "Wait, I can't keep up!" We booked it and when I pulled into the driveway triumphantly ahead of everyone else, Naomi was still a good block behind me.
"Victory!" I yelled as Naomi came panting up behind me, closely followed by Leah. Soon Lars rode in with a tearful Emilia. "What took ya so long?" I gloated. "Uh, I didn't race off and leave my kid behind me in the dust" he answered. (Always so practical, that one.) "No mercy!" I joked. "I guess we play by different rules" he said. "Well then, I guess I'll always win." ;) I can't help it. I am half my Dad, after all.
3 comments:
pretty sure this is my most favorite post. ever.
I remember as a kid, when the speed limit in Montana went to "no speed limit." True story, for a while there was none. We had some great rides to church trying to get there on time.
OK. The first thing I would like to say in my defense is that I was never ticketed or felt that I put my family in danger. I remember taking a wide left turn on to sixth st one time and was passed by car on the left during the turn (who could that have been). Any way I'll have agree about the DNA aspect also. I remember my Dad taking on a few cars and usually winning also. My mom did not drive. Yup it must be hereditary. Shar I recommend that you keep the races on bicycle.
Post a Comment