Madame’s half-day camp is miles and miles and miles away from our house.
(Okay, it’s maybe one-and-a-half kilometres, and about a 15 minute walk, and much longer with a pokey four-year-old in tow.)
Now that the stroller is completely out of our lives, we’re really left to being on foot when we go places. Or with the children on bicycles, and me
walking running alongside them, which isn’t the worst, but at 11:30 AM, the sun burns pretty damn hot, and the sidewalks radiate an intense kind of heat in the city…
A few weeks ago, I struck genius inside my wee head: I’m going to ride Oliver’s scooter to and fro from now on.
Genius, I say.
I don’t really want a bike of my own – I’ve had bicycles in the past, of course, and I can ride one perfectly well, but I’m not really interested in having one now. And, with Ava Scarlett new to being on a bike with training wheels this season, she still needs my help getting on and off the curb. And sometimes she needs a little push getting started again. Or stopping at the lights before rolling into traffic. You know – all the heart-attack inducing stuff. She needs me next to her, still.
But once the child gets going, she is off like a shot, and that’s when I have to run to keep up with her. In the heat. For miles and miles and miles of sidewalk. Then I have a long walk back, which is a little bit faster at my own, but only by a little.
So. The scooter.
You know I’ve been riding it in the house for over a year, right? Well, I totally have, when the children aren’t home. I now consider it my winter sport. It. Is. Fun. And I figured, why not? It’s really the perfect thing, since I’m riding it right next to her (or just in front, or just behind) the whole time. I hop on and off whenever I need to, which is kind of frequent with a small kid on training wheels. It’s brilliant, really.
I even purchased a flat backpack/messenger bag thing to hold my wallet and keys, which I just sling across my back before venturing out.
My favourite part has to be the expressions of passers-by, doing double takes, when they realise the person on the scooter isn’t a child or babysitter. Is that… is she… wait… Nay! She’s a totally muther.
Now when we ride as a family, Oliver is in front on the sidewalk, she’s usually in the middle, and I bring up the rear. Me and my ducks, all in a row. It’s all kinds of hilarious.
The upside to all of this is I’ve managed to shave about five minutes off our travel time getting there… even more when I’m on my way back, by myself, or just with the boy on his bike. We’re not burning any gas, which is good for the world, and were getting some exercise. (Whatever.) And did I mention that it’s fun? It sooooooo totally is.
The downside? It’s only good for this kind of short ride. I can’t really go to the store with it, unless all I’m getting is a pack of gum or a tangerine. And worst of all, I can’t eat a cheeseburger in one hand while I ride it, which would be entirely too rad, if it were even possible. (On a skateboard? Maaaaaybe…)
Is it foolish to ride one of these things around town when you’re forty? *shrugs* While riding home yesterday, we passed some kids ending their day of soccer camp who knew Oliver from a few weeks back. Many of them have seen me ride through the adjoining parking lot several times, taking his sister to camp and then whizzing past on my way back. One kid yelled, “Hey Oliver, does your mom ride your scooter every day? She’s so cool…”
So there you have it. Apparently I’m cool like that. Heh.
Have you been on a scooter lately? What are you waiting for?!