We barely saw N this weekend. Although, I'm positive I would've been checking his forehead for a fever if he was home much. To attain the status of cool rider, one must ride.
And ride he did.
On the way to church yesterday, Zoe saw him riding next to us. She was yelling for him and waving. She about jumped out her carseat with excitement when he honked.
I think she's officially our biker baby. Lord help us!
N is officially the coolest guy at church. I saw 3 close accidents in the church parking lot of men stopping to check out his ride. That bike is a testosterone magnet. While N may be the hit of the male population at church, my love of the bike is not shared by many wives.
I saw quite a few eye rolls.
Maybe they're right. It isn't the safest and the call of the bike is strong.
I'm learning, as a biker wife, you have to find some way to encourage your biker to come home. Fortunately I know the key to N's heart.
A grilled steak.
He knows I'll burn the meat to an inch of crisp, so he raced home to BBQ. Zoe kept staring out the window as though he might honk at her again.
I think she's in love!
With her daddy and his bike!
I was hoping she had some sort of pink jacket so she could be his first Pink Lady. It was 98 degrees outside. That would just be plain mean.
Even more so than dragging her to the basketball tourney in a back-pack.
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