Twas a middlin-old red two-wheeler
Pulled from the rummage out back there.
You could see the old leather seat
Had been handled with tender loving care.
Bike had been in a scrape or two:
Tires were cruising at half-past flat,
But the chrome was still mighty shiny—
Bike’d still fly like an old alley cat.
So, they took the old darling home
After fixing it up with those holiday deals.
But the bike was for Christmas for the daughter;
So they added me, some brand-new training wheels.
At last, I could do my bicy-mentoring thing:
Extra wheels to keep daughter on track,
The new kid steering the handle bars up front;
Me providing balance and support from the back.
Twas finally the night before Christmas,
Me and bike waiting in the garage:
Nervous about meeting our new girl owner,
Sort of sure we were better’n decoupage!
Next morning the garage door flew open.
Such a commotion as you never did hear:
Her joyous shriek shook loose some snow
That fell along with Daddy’s one tear.
“Oh, Daddy, she’s perfect!”
So, out to the street we rumbled,
Me and Bike balancing, as well you’d know.
The girl then pedaled out of Daddy’s grasp,
Yelling: “Come on, bike, LET’S GO!”