Dec 15, 2014

Christmas Comes But Twice a Year

Eloise has been creaking about on a bike she inherited from Faye, rest her soul, for the last year or so, an ancient relic of the days when ladies' bike were real ladies' bikes, with low-slung crossbars and back-pedal brakes, no gears and a baggage tray at the back.

A girl of her calibre can't be expected to put up with that sort of nonsense for ever, especially potentially dangerous nonsense whose brakes don't really work that well and whose lack of gears prevent any meaningful multi-gradient progress.

So it was with great pleasure that, after forcing Eloise to march around Germside to buy Christmas presents for her friends and family and forcefully reminding her that we weren't shopping for her, I took her to a bike shop and allowed her to choose the Bicycle Of Her Dreams as a pre-Christmas Christmas present.

We spoke of getting the duck-blue, but there were none in stock, so we ended up with white; I don't think she'll tyre of it. (handle)Barring any disasters, this one should last her for years. But the deal is: she has to get her arse into Gear and go on a few more rides with us without complaining, because now she has a new bike we can't Tread the "my bike is just too rubbish" path any more.

She's delighted, but she knows that there won't be any more presents from Mum and Dad this year. Or will there?!!

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