It was inevitable… And I feared it from the first day.
… I know me. I can’t just leave well enough alone. I’m a junky…
You can call it “purpose built” tools… or being “properly equipped”. It’s all the same.
I, boys and girls, like toys. Tools. Gear. Bright, shiny objects. Whatever…
So when I got into triathlons and actually found that I liked… nay… LOVED it (is LURVE to strong a word?) I knew that my retirement would soon be spent and my family would be in poverty.
Wetsuits, RIDICULOUSLY exotic bicycles made from 100% pure awesome, luscious amounts of Spandex (or… in my case, EXpandex… cause I test it’s limits… daily…), crazy expensive races ($500… really?), more running shoes in one year than I had purchased in my entire adult life… the list is endless. How can one possibly have all of this (highly necessary… of course.) equipment and still make house payments? It’s insane…
So perhaps it was out of guilt that I found myself today back at my local second home bike shop… fondling the merchandise… again. After spotting my future new mountain bike was on sale now (my wallet burst into flames at this point and then I blacked out…) and asking (through gritted teeth ‘cuz I REEEALLY don’t want one) when the new fluid trainers were coming out… I spotted it…
The new addition:
The Giant XTC
Actually, I didn’t spot it. The six year old did. About 3 weeks ago. We went in to the shop with the purpose of looking at a bike for her. As I was discussing with fatherly merit the wisdom of things like coaster brakes, tassles and pink paint jobs, Jess calmly walked over to this bike and said… THIS ONE.
And we were done…
No amount of dissuading worked. It sounded something like this:
Responsible dad: “Jess, this one might be a little too much bike for you.”
Confident, self assured child #2: “Nope. It’s perfect.”
Responsible dad: “But this one over here is in your favorite color… purple…?”
#2: “Purple sux. This one is WAY better”
(giggles from the sales lady… Who was NO help in guiding #2 to a more appropriate bike… *sigh*)
Desperate dad: “But this one has a basket to carry your critters in and the brakes are easier (coaster brakes).”
#2: “I can go faster than brother on this one!”
Resigned dad: “Probably…”
One last desperate attempt dad: “There are no training wheels on this one Jess. The purple one has training wheels…”
#2: “That’s OK… I don’t need them. You can teach me how to ride without them, right?”
Dead in the water dad: “*sigh*”
And so it went. Since then (no, we didn’t take it home that day) I have been worked over on a daily basis to give up the delivery date for the new steed. So when I saw it on sale I knew that I had better pick it up before someone else did… thus leading to my immediate demise… I bought it immediately.
Those of you with kids may now laugh knowingly at my predicament… with my permission… I deserve it. Those of you with no kids… print this out as you laugh and make snarky comments about how dad got worked. Put it in a box and pull it out when you buy your first real bike for your kid. And then note how eerily similar the circumstances were. It’s creepy…