I can remember getting it for my tenth birthday. It was the first one that was not a hand me down from older relatives; I guess my parents finally thought that I was ready for my first new one. It fit me perfectly and my friends were all envious of my new present. It was red and black with stickers that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. It brought me years of fun and numerous band-aids on my knees and elbows. It had pegs on the front and back that allowed me to do tricks; they also were responsible for my first broken bone. The wheels were shiny black with chrome rims; perfect for placing a folded playing card in to make that cool clicking sound. The middle bar had the word “Huffy” in big red letters, a sure sign that this new bike was made for me. My bike was transformed into a tank, a police car, a fire engine and even an airplane. My new bike took me to faraway lands and had me home in time for dinner, well before the street lights came on. I understand now why my parents waited so long to give me a brand new bike.
My daughter's pink Huffy (she named it 'Thunder') is still out in the shed somewhere, though she's long grown up and flown the coop.
ReplyDeleteNice descriptive piece, moving gracefully from description to physical effects to childhood thoughts.