Lord, Have Mercy!

So, remember this? You’ve seen it before. A written masterpiece by my then 15 year-old, deliberate grammar mistakes and all.

He was obsessed with motorcycles throughout high school to the point that he was producing these “scientific evidence” papers trying to convince me that he needs a bike. He’d just not shut up and forget about the damn thing. And I’d too talk on and on about his motorcycle obsession and air all my fears how I’m scared to even imagine him riding one. Remember that time?

He got eerie quiet about it in his late teens and early college. I thought that perhaps he got over it.

Fast forward to now and him being 22. Shortly after his birthday, I get a text from him with pictures.

Right…

Apparently phrases like “over my dead body”, “my house – my rules”, and “not in my garage” do not necessarily work with 22 year-olds.

I got to name the beast though. Her name is Iris Suzi, and she stole my child.

Before you start saying I’m overreacting, don’t forget we live in NYC where traffic is insane, and drivers are very aggressive. Taking your Iris for a spin on New York streets, let alone a city highway, is very different from a nice countryside ride. I’m not even entirely comfortable with him driving a car in the city, and a motorcycle brings on a whole new set of challenges.

I do appreciate him taking a safety course and buying all kinds of protective gear and clothing. My heart still flutters in worry when I see him atop the motorcycle. Do you know which saint helps with motorcycle safety (and rebellious children)?

Can I put him back on the Little Tikes tricycle instead?

If you were once a young thrill seeker yourself and lived to tell the story, please soothe my soul, email me to say he’ll be okay too!!