I'm swamped as I have a meeting with the painters in less than one hour, but I can't let Blogland down, so here goes a short story.
I was twelve and had never had a bike. Yep, we were poor, but rich in love. My Daddy sat me down on Christmas Eve; he was "under the influence," and he told me that he was sorry, but that there'd be no bike under the tree. I nodded and told him that was all right, even though I was once again, disappointed.
Christmas morning there were two beautiful new bikes: a red one for my brother and a blue one for me! It seems that Daddy did his little Christmas Eve lie so that the morning would be a surprise. It sure was.
Oh, how I loved my gorgeous blue bicycle!
It looked something like this one I copied from the internet.
Beverly at How Sweet the Sound hosts Pink Saturday