Daredevil Evel Knievel Rides Again

A story of when my boys were younger and the daredevil antics they would dream up. This particular story is from January 2009. Enjoy!

No sooner were the boys off the school bus (we weren’t even in the apartment yet) when it started:

“Mom! Can we please ride our bikes outside for a little while? Please?!?” coming from my eldest son, Jonathan.

“Yeah, Mommy, please?” piped in Tre.

I couldn’t say no (naturally) and figured after they were out in the cold for a while it would wear them out and maybe they wouldn’t fight and argue so much when they came in (yeah right). Let them pretend to be little daredevils for a while and wear themselves out.

“Okay, Okay, but just for a little while! Zip up your coats and put your hats on, it’s cold out there.” I am, after all, gunning for the Good Mommy Award of the Year.

The bikes are pulled out of their corners and the boys go riding off into the sunset, so to speak. There isn’t another soul outside. No adults, no children. Just us crazies.

They go around the parking lot for a little while until one of the neighbor children sees them and comes out with his brother. They zoom around the corner on their bikes and ask my boys if they want to ride on the basketball court for a while.

Round and round they went till they got bored with that. One of the neighbor children jumped his bike off the sidewalk and into the parking lot (just a little jump) but naturally, Tre saw it and had to try it. He made it, barely. Jonathan, however, disappeared.

When I turned around he was at the top of a small incline with the other boys. The other boys, who are older and have more weight on them, came down the incline on their bikes and jumped the curb and landed on the pavement wheels up, grinning from ear to ear.

I saw a disaster in the making where Jonathan saw adventure.

“Jonathan get off that hill NOW!” I yelled.

Unfortunately, I didn't specify HOW he was to come off the hill. I turned my back for a split second to help Tre. When I turned back around, there was Jonathan, rolling across the pavement and the bike on its side.

The spirit of Evel Knievel had taken hold and he attempted to jump the curb. And missed.

I ran over to where he lay and asked him if he was alright as he slowly shook his head no. He had tears in his eyes, but his friends were gathered around him and he wasn't about to let them see him cry.

He sucked in a deep breath of air and put on a brave face.

“I’m ready to go in the house now Mom,” he said.

“You sure you’re okay? Did you break anything? Can you stand up?” He was still sitting on the pavement.

His bike suffered minimal damage. The 'WildCard' license plate we'd given him had come undone, but was something his dad could easily fix.

Jonathan, however, said he bruised both of his knees and his “middle” and he pointed to his groin. Apparently the force of the bike coming off the curb from down the hill jarred his little personal area but good. He was limping. Walking really slow too.

He walked his bike home.

His brother was extremely ticked that we were heading back to the house, but then seeing Jonathan's gate, developed a morbid curiosity to see if he'd broken any bones that might be sticking out somewhere.

God help me.

“No Tre, he did not break anything. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to walk and Mommy would have had to carry him into the house.”

“Oh, well what’s wrong with him then?” he asked.

Upon inspection, Jonathan bruised both of his knees up but good. The right knee received the brunt of the fall and had a bruise already forming the size of a small football on the side of his knee. His left knee apparently hit something on the bike and only has a small black and blue mark on it.

But boy did he going to feel it in the morning!

A few moments after the medical examination he said to me, “Why couldn’t Santa bring me a skateboard for Christmas? I didn’t even want a stupid bike.”

“What do you mean you didn’t want a bike? That’s all you’ve harped about for like the last year – I want a bike, I want a bike!”

“Well now I don’t. I want a skateboard.”

“You can fall off of a skateboard and get hurt just as bad, if not worse, as on a bike.”

“Well get me a scooter then. I can’t fall and get hurt on that.”