Today’s a random sort of day for me, so I thought instead of sharing the newest beauty secret in my pocket, I’d share a quick story with you. I know, you’re waiting with bated breath, I can feel it.
Several years ago when Precocious was a toddler, we lived in a small condominium in a different city. We lived close enough to Viktor’s office that he decided to buy a motorcycle for the quick commute. It didn’t hurt that his best friend/boyfriend had a motorcycle too, and they always buy toys in pairs. Story for a different day. Anyway, Viktor had a motorcycle and it was a lot of fun. The rowdy side of me was excited about the whole thing, the mother side of me was less than thrilled.
I learned how to ride a motorcycle all by myself, and I’ll tell you, there really is something to all that wind in your hair. It’s a liberating feeling being all exposed to the elements at 60+ M.P.H. Dangerous and whatnot but you know, fun, and lots of it.
So this one day, in the parking lot of a grocery store Viktor decided to let our 3-year-old daughter take a little spin on the motorcycle, perched on his lap, with no helmet.
Of course this has a terrible ending, that’s why it’s a good story.
Precocious, being a 3-year-old and looking for someplace to hang on, grabbed onto the throttle and yanked for all it was worth. The motorcycle spun, flipped, threw Precocious several feet, and pinned Viktor underneath. By the time I arrived on the scene Precocious was crying for all she was worth and Viktor looked like he was on the verge himself. Within 20 minutes Precocious’ forehead protruded 4 inches out with swelling and she had two black eyes.
I wanted to kill my husband on the spot.
We went to the nearest hospital where we waited 3 hours in the emergency room, were seen by a doctor who might have suggested child abuse if it hadn’t been for the seething rage and barbed remarks I was spewing at my husband, and we didn’t even get so much as an x-ray. I was convinced we had a permanently brain damaged child.
The good news is that Precocious is just fine, and is ready to receive her Mensa membership any day now.
The motorcycle wasn’t so lucky. It had a new owner by the time her bruises healed.
Allison
Hello there! I'm Allison Czarnecki, founder + editor of Petit Elefant, a blog all about style on a budget for every part of your life: style / home / travel / family. I do a lot of how-to beauty + style tutorials, travel posts, easy recipes, home remodel projects, and cool DIY crafts you totally want to try. I'm super happily married (to a hot Polish immigrant) and am the mother of two kids, a daughter and son, all of whom are featured here on the regular. We live in the country but we're a little bit rock + roll. Welcome!
gasp.
just…oh man.
Ha. It was rough.
I would have killed him. I can’t believe he put her on the motorcycle. Thank goodness she was alright.
Thank goodness indeed. Murder crossed my mind.
My Dad had a motorcycle when I was little. I had a helmet that was decked out with a sparkly butterfly…he used to take me to preschool on it. One day, his hat blew off so he stopped, put the kick-stand out and left me sitting on the bike as he walked back to retrieve the hat. Only the kick-stand didn’t lock so the bike started to wobble, as it wobbled, I fell off…then the bike fell on me. Yeah…it was gone before my scrapes healed. :)
Awww, sparkly butterflies? So adorable.
So, similar outcomes on both counts.
I love the little guy’s face in that photo like, “I can’t believe these people are in charge of my safety.” Also, Precious looks totally badass. Love it.
Seriously, right?
She is pretty badass, all around.
ROFL, that’s exactly how he looks!
I’m pretty sure this is exactly why my dad’s motorcycle made it’s exit before I made my entrance. He’s had a motorcycle on his Christmas Wish List every year since. Somehow he still managed to mutter about foolishness when my brother decided he wanted one upon his own entry to adulthood… despite that we’ve all heard about how he used to ride his motorcycle around on the back wheel only… in the mountains of British Columbia, mind you, not the prairies where we live now.
Holy cow, some habits die hard. I understand the thrill, but man they’re so dangerous.
She got braces! and she picked orange! good choice! She can now eat Cheetos all she wants. :)
Wow…what a story. So-so lucky. Her little black eyes…that must have been some bump!
Ha! If I bought cheetos that is….
No freakin’ way! That picture of her! I’m dying. So glad it all turned out okay!
Poor little thing. That photo was a couple weeks later too, it didn’t heal for a long time…
So glad she was OK. And glad to hear your hubby is still alive!! Congratulations to your daughter. What an honor. Seriously!
No, I was totally joking about Mensa, but I won’t be surprised if it shows up, the kid is bright.
Oh my gosh! How funny.
Hi – I’ve tried to email you about a little project I am working on but my email is acting up. Do you know anyone in the Salt Lake area that would be willing to help me? Here’s the link to my french bread project. http://stwarnercorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/please-help-buy-loaf-of-french-bread.html
Thanks!!
Michal here with my side of the story. First of all, the bike stuck around for another two years and I only sold it when I realized that I am a big cheater put putting up the hill instead of huffing on a bicycle. Second of all, she used to go for rides all of the time and her hobby was to twist the throttle but only after I would put he bike in at least third gear. This way she could crank it all she wanted and not much would happen. This time, she just grabbed for it shile the bike was still in first.
Long story short; It was all fun and games until someone lost an eye.
Your mom.