Sell The Bike

My 73 in 2011 is full of so many things I want to do while Superman is deployed. But it's also full of things I don't want to do.

Case in point: # 53. Sell The Bike.

Superman's sports bike has been the staple of our entire relationship (well, that and of course the actual feelings we have for each other...).  My bum (and only my bum) has been on the passenger seat of that bike since our first date! I admit in the beginning I was scared of that thing. But over time, I've grown attached.

For five years Superman and the bike were a packaged deal. No amazing superhero army man of my dreams, without the adrenaline rush soar-bum-on-long-rides bike. So it should shock us all to know that Superman was in fact the first to bring up the idea of selling the bike.

And when he brought it up, I cried. And cried. And cried. Tears of sadness.We've had long discussions about selling the bike. But we had to cut the conversations short as terrible breakdowns ensued.

Because giving up the bike evoked grown up married words like, "fiscal responsibility," like  "accidents happen," like "we're not immortal," like " potentially not hurting our baby makers on the rough seats." (Okay the last was not discussed, but it sounds grown up and serious.)

And hearing these words to me meant carefree dating life is over! *Please excuse the following meltdown* BAHHHHHHHH!!!! It was like turning 40 overnight, and forgetting the botox!

But last weekend we did it. Well, he did it. Because I couldn't stand to be in the same location, let alone the same state as we gave our baby away. But before he did, we came to a compromise. Sell the bike now, but get an amazing new one when Superman comes back -- with a new jacket for me, that is blingy and amazing. And for a week following, we'll bring back our "A game" back.
Because a man without a bike doesn't deserve a second date. The End.