Six year olds have a vivid imagination and I was no exception to the rule. I had a sparkly, gold bicycle with a banana seat. Do you remember those seats? Small colored plastic tubes of varying colors decorated the spokes of the wheels and made clickity clackity sounds as they rolled over and over. Riding my bike through the mountains, over the desert and to the beach…well, in my mind’s eye…provided a wealth of experiences.
My favorite biking activities were called “bus stop” and “mail man” which proves that those great naming conventions of mine started long ago. Anyway, playing “mail man” consisted of riding to the pretend mailbox (the mailboxes were attached to the outside of the houses by the front door not at the end of the driveway) of the first house in the cul-de-sac, stopping my bike, pretending to take mail from the mail box and placing it in the flowered basket fastened to the front where the handlebars connected. Oh, how I did love my faux wicker adornment which was simply made from white plastic. To me, however, it was equivalent to a present day Gucci or Coach purse.
“Bus stop” was a little more animated. I would choose a “bus stop” and upon stopping at that point, I would say things such as, “Everyone get off,” “No pushing,” or “Good morning children.” This world of bright yellow buses filled with children traveling to and from school was of utmost excitement. I loved going to school and the anticipation I felt riding to get there was truly a highlight of each day. This explains why and how I could play “bus stop” for hours and hours without tiring.
I actually have pictures of my favorite bike riding route. Because my mother wanted to watch me from our home, it was physically a short ride, but it didn’t feel like that to a child of six.
“Hope you enjoyed the ride everybody. Now it’s time to get off the bus!”