She sat patiently in our attic garage for far too long, a dignified throwback to a simpler time.
I spotted the old, wobbly tricycle out of the corner of my eye as I shifted a giant toboggan to make room for a stack of winter storm windows we needed to store.
“Hey!” I said. “I think I know someone who might want to give you a whirl.”
I lifted her up from that cob-webbed corner and gave her wheels a pinch.
“You look pretty good, old girl!” I said and I handed her down.
We needed the space in the attic anyway and I figured she stood an equal chance of resurrecting her life as a noble steed or taking that slow, sad roll to the city dump.
I dusted off her seat and offered it to an amiable four-year old who, thus far, had been enjoying two alternating forms of travel around our neighborhood – his own sturdy legs and either my or my husband’s shoulders.
“You want to give this a try?”
Indeed he did. He jumped on, took off and rattled happily off into summer.
I could not believe how perfectly they paired – that savvy little child of post-digital times and the trusty metal tricycle from generations past.
We settled a beloved Mickey Mouse stuffie in the wire basket someone, likely my dad, had zip-tied onto the handle bars at least 50 years ago, and took off for the park.
The little fellow could hardly contain his glee.
“Look at me! I’m going fast!”
At one point, he took a sharp curve too fast and they both hit the ground.
“I OK!” the rider said, popping up quickly and brushing himself off. I thought I caught a thumbs up from the little bike as well.
She limps a little due to a loose back wheel. We’ll have to tighten that up pretty quickly. But, otherwise that old tricycle has found new life. She stands a little taller now on the garage’s main floor, and waits anxiously for her new buddy to come for a ride.
He rides her hard, around the block, to the pool and back, through the park.
I think it’s going to be a great summer for both of them.