My Dad is a daredevil. Early in his life it became apparent that he had an unnatural attraction to wheels. According to family members, when he was still a toddler he was already fascinated by how things worked and wheeled contraptions. Over the course of his life he has owned and played with a mind-boggling number of cars, motorcycles, and bicycles.
This love of bicycles, along with his daredevil tendency, has led to a multitude of ER visits, hospital stays, scars, broken bones, and sleepless nights. It has also led to numerous medals, track records, and scoutings. He ultimately chose to pursue a career elsewhere, in part due to two particular little girls.
Understandably, he could not wait for the opportunity to introduce the next generation to his love of wheels. However, due to Ryann's own daredevil tendencies, Jared and I chose to put some pretty strict limitations on just how that could happen.
Just before Ryann's first birthday, we received a large box in the mail. My parents were busting to see Ryann open it. As soon as Jared got home from work, we called them up on Skype and pulled out the box. Inside was a giraffe. On wheels. Ryann got a tricycle for her first birthday.
Dad was so excited to finally see Ryann ride her new toy, but it was not to be. Although Ryann occasionally rode her giraffe, her favorite mode of travel was to run it around the house backwards. And to stand on the seat and clap.