What's a Mom to do? In conspiracy with his father to boot!. . now HE wants one again too. He bought himself a motorcycle. What is it with boys and motorcycles anyway?? "Hey Mom . . you guys gonna be home this weekend?" . . "Yeah" . . "Well, I thought I might come by and show you something" . . "OK, we will be here" . . . So in he pulls, with a chopper. It does look nice and all, it sounds very loud and rumbles like a Harley but it's a Honda. He is grinning ear to ear . . but Mom is not. I don't like motorcycles . . they are way too scary. Dale road a Honda for a number of years that belonged to my brother Phil . . I went on maybe 2 rides the entire time he owned it. One time around the block, the other when he tried to take me out to Hagg Lake on it and I squeezed his middle so tight that he had fingerprint bruises, we turned around 1/2 way there. And apparently, I lean the wrong way . . you are suppose to lean with the bike . . not the other way in an effort to save your life. So I am a motorcycle passenger failure . . which is perfectly fine with me. Dale says, "You should be proud of him he took the motorcycle safety class that he didn't have to take, it's going to be cheaper on insurance and gas than his truck was, it will be fine just quit worrying." Aaarrrghhh . . . Easier said than done you co-conspirator! boys!!
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