I remember (distantly, vaguely) being taught to ride a bicycle as a young child. My parents shouldered the burden of teaching me. I am glad I don’t remember in detail all the whining they had to put up with or the extra encouraging and cajoling they had to practice to get it to happen.
Don’t misunderstand. I desperately wanted to ride a bike, at least in theory. One of the few childhood tantrums I remember was over getting a bike. But getting one is not the same as being able to use a bicycle. And wanting to learn to ride feels different as a distant desire than it feels when you are wobbling on the unsteady seat, realizing that your father is about to remove his hands that are holding you up. You are going to have to pedal, steer, and stay upright on your own.
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