At Least It's Not Teletubbies This Time Around

We've had some unusually nice weather here in Vancouver, and by that, of course, I mean we've had some nice weather and that is unusual.  Friday was a Pro-D day at school, and it was actually warm, so the entire neighborhood came out side.  We've got my three kids, my neighbor's three, the three two houses up, the two two houses down, the one across the street, two more next to them, two more next to them, two three houses up from them, and four behind me.  That's a lot of kids.  And they all were outside.  

Everyone came out with their bikes and their scooters and their trikes and their ripsticks and proceeded to tear it up.  3of3 and I went outside, and as I sat on the curb watching everyone she started trying to ride her brother's Razor scooter.  Except she barely has enough of a center of gravity to run, so things were not going well for her.

And that's when I decided it was time for the kid to get her first bike.

We went to Toys R Us and parked outside were a stack of 12" bikes that looked perfect.  They were light blue with light pink accents and some of those tassle things on the handbars.  They weren't excessively girly, but just girly enough that the little Jewish boy up the street wouldn't think Santa had finally come around and left him an extremely late Christmas present.  So I went right over to them, thinking I'd just grab one and be done with it, and that's when I realized that they weren't exactly the kind of sturdy I'd like to strap my only-begotten daughter to in traffic, so we went in.

Friday was evidently British Columbia Bike Buying Day.  Big fun, no whammies.

Every bike they had was either made of PVC and pipe cleaners or was drowning in Bratz.  I found a really awesome orange scooter, but she was having none of it.  And by none of it, I mean she was screaming at the top of her lungs and throwing herself on the floor, shouting, "I CAN'T WIKE A NEW BIKE!!!!"

This is where I should have dropped everything and walked out the door, but I was determined to get this kid outside playing with the kids in the 'hood, so I ended up grabbing the first well-built bike of proper size and specification that I could find a moderately matching helmet for (and goddammit, why didn't they make Paul Frank helmets and pads when my boys were little?  I swear, you people get all the cool stuff these days) and making a run for it.

We arrived home, I pulled out my toolbox, poured a drink, and got started on this.
So ready to make this sucker my bitch.
About 30 minutes later, I ended up with this.
Pretty sure that's coated in Princess vomit.
Holy Gender Neutral FAIL, Batman.

That is a Sleeping Beauty bike with a silver Disney seat and Disney Princesses helmet and elbow pads.  There's even a Princesses bell on the handlebar and a detachable Sleeping Beauty purse on the front, and the whole thing is lacquered in a super-water resistant layer of princess vomit.  I swear, it was the only acceptable thing they had.  Really.

I got done assembling it, tossed her on it and the thing didn't ride.  The problem lay in the one part of the bike that came pre-assembled, and so I pulled out my big guns and took the whole thing apart down to the screws and put it all the way back together.  And I FIXED it.  I felt really big and bad a tough and  all, "Who needs a man, yo?  I can assemble a bike and change my own oil and have sex with myself if I absolutely have to.  I am WOMAN!" and then I realized that I'd assembled a Sleeping Beauty pink glitter-ridden 12" bicycle.  

So it goes.

Anyway, she's ridiculously cute on it and I have grainy proof with terrible audio and you can see that proof filmed on my Blackberry thanks to the magic of YouTube.  Which we didn't have when my boys were little, either, you lucky bastards.