Baby Einstein

I took my son out for a ride on the bike trail the other day. This is always a big undertaking. By the time we leave the house, it looks like we're going camping for a week—bikes, clothing, towels, water bottles, food, shoes, helmets, sun glasses, gloves, sun screen, tools, spare tubes, backpack, etc. Lots of things to remember. It was only a matter of time before I forgot something.

Unfortunately, when I did forget, it was something important . . . the boy's helmet.

I cursed under my breath and tried to decide whether we would drive back home for it, or just bag the ride altogether. When I told him I had forgotten his helmet, he asked, "Can I use yours?"

I just smiled at him like adults do, with the "you're-so-cute-but-you-just-don't-get-it" smile. I playfully placed my helmet on his head and shook it around.

It didn't move much. At all.

His mother and I have always joked about his head, and how his huge brain will one day bring great things to the world. I just didn't realize it was THAT big.

With a couple clicks of the ratchet system in back and a few inches of chin strap taken in, we were in business. It didn't even look that big on him:



I threw on a ballcap and off we went. I don't like riding without a helmet, but I didn't want to drive back home, either. We did stay on the flatter portion of the bike trail since it was safer.



The boy pounded out a personal best of 25 miles. We followed it up with burritos and a swim when we returned home. Another great summer day.

Later.