Back on the bike

Grot boy had waited patiently for my broken finger to heal after my bicycle accident  but he was getting very tired of going out for a ride on his own. While Bobby’s company was very pleasant and amiable, he wasn’t a very good motivator or coach, unlike Billy.

Each week after his ride, grot boy would say, “All the hills are just a little bit steeper and a little bit longer when I’m riding on my own. It’s so much easier when Hephie and Ccino and Dwight are out in front waving and encouraging me to keep up.”

Finally, the cast was off my hand and the doctors declared I was fit to ride. But I wasn’t quite so sure and kept finding a reason to postpone. The first week I explained, “Dwight wants to wash her fur today so I think I should stay home and help.” The next week I deferred again, “Ccino has been very naughty this week and he’s grounded so I better stay home and make sure he doesn’t get up to any more mischief.” Last week I was sure that Hephie was snuffling more than usual and should stay home in bed while I looked after him.

Hephie helping with gearsNow, I had no more excuses, but I had one condition, “I will not ever, ever again ride along THAT bike path.”

Hephie was very pleased to resume our cycling trips and had missed his weekly outing. It allowed him to spend the whole day waving and saying hello to everyone we passed by; and as we waited at traffic lights or crossings he would have a chat and make new friends.

“I’ll help you ride – I can’t quite reach the pedals but I can help change gears and use the brake if your hand gets sore,” he encouraged me.

Helmet on DwightDwight wasn’t as sure that riding with me again was such a good idea. “What if you fall off again? I don’t want to get scratched and bruised or break a bone,” she told us. It was only when grot boy promised to buy her a new bright pink helmet and extra safety gear that she agreed to come riding again with me.

Ccino’s only concern about our return to bike riding was that I would now be more sedate and cautious. “It won’t be any fun if you don’t go whizzing down the hills very, very fast. I don’t want to be stuck on the back of a granny bike,” he declared.

And I didn’t want to be a “granny” bike rider, so off we went, pedalling fast and panting hard to keep in front of grot boy.

©, 2014


Grot girl’s accident

accident-hand-Hephie“We’ll all have to help with the blog this week,” Ted 2 instructed the other teddies. “Grot girl can’t write or type because of her broken finger.”

“First, we have to decide what story we’re going to tell – we’ve had so many adventures it’s hard to choose. But maybe we should tell everyone about the accident,” he suggested.

Buddha Bear was no help, “It’s karma and what will be will be,” he said and resumed meditating.

Grandpa Teddy was so upset he wasn’t much help either. “Grot girl has never got sick and injured in all the years we’ve been together. Who will look after us when we get old if she can’t?” he asked and it looked like there were tears in his eyes.

“Get off the computer Ted 2, it’s my turn to type,” Ccino interjected. “I’ve got the smallest fingers so I’ll be abbblllee tto tyoe the bwst.”

Hephie said he wanted to find the naughty dog who’d made grot girl fall off her bike. “If he hadn’t wandered onto the path then grot girl wouldn’t have fallen off and hurt herself. He was a little dog with black spots – I’m sure I’d recognise him if I saw him again. And if we find him, I’m going to stomp on him for being a naughty dog.”

Bobby looked worried, “If grot girl can’t type, does that mean she won’t be able to cook for us too?” he wanted to know.

“Bobby, all you ever think of is your tummy,” Dwight chastised him. “This is a family disaster – grot girl has a broken finger and we all have to help.”

“Come on everyone, we’re supposed to be writing a story,” Ted 2 reminded them. A story has a beginning, a middle and an end, and something has to happen.”

They all stared at the blank computer screen, quiet for just a moment.

“I know, why don’t we ask grot boy to write this week’s story,” Dwight suggested.

“That’s the stupidest idea ever,” Ccino responded. “Have you ever seen grot boy write? He can’t even write properly.”

Somehow, listening to the teddies argue and debate what to do, and how to cope without my assistance made me feel a lot better, and a little more appreciated.

P.S Due to this unfortunate, unforeseen event, the teddies’ blog will not be appearing quite so frequently in forthcoming weeks.

©, 2014