Tuesday, June 16, 2009

hell's biscuit

The Biscuit has many interests, but none are so keen as her utter devotion to bicycles. Especially big, purple bicycles. She talks about them in the car, before bed, when spotting a suicidal freak on our curvy, no-shoulder road. So her thoughtful grandparents deduced that an early birthday present would make summer even more exciting for our favorite little spazzbot.

So we lured her into their garage and invited her to investigate the mysteriously wrapped object.

Whaddaya know? It was a big ol', big ol', purple big kids bike!

We all held our breath.

The Biscuit, true to toddler form, was decidedly underwhelmed and chose to focus on the sparkly water bottle that came with her dream bike.

Le sigh.

Also true to form, all the adults put pressure on her to be very excited, so she got performance anxiety and refused to ride her dream come true.

She really enjoyed investigating her bike and its various accoutrements, but for no amount of tea in China/princesses in the Disney vault would the child actually hop on and ride.

Le sigh.

Fortunately, the little dude loves to smile for the camera, so all of our recorded memories will indicate that it was the most thrilling day of her life.

I'm learning a valuable lesson as an adult: Kids are little shits.

Seriously, though. You do something wonderful for them-- a trip to the zoo or circus, their first fishing trip, answering their every dream by buying them the exact bicycle that their heart desires. And then their response is pathetic. They are balky, rude, underwhelmed, whiny, and then refuse to participate with the joy and thankfulness that parents crave.

I now see why my dad never took me to the Ice Capades again. I was a little shit, too.

But we forgive them, because it's not their fault that we are holding them to our own imagined perceptions of happiness and expectations. They're just kids. Just doing their things, thinking on a level slightly higher than labradors.

And one day, they'll be teenagers, which will be even worse. And then, hopefully, if we do everything right, there will a brief 2 or 3 year span in between college and childbearing when they are appreciative, friendly, and respectful and finally realize that they don't know everything and that their parents did the best they could.

That's going to be a great few years.

Until then, there's always the baby.

I can always pin my hopes on him.

And, as a post-script, once we got the bike home, she was totally diggin' it. Rides it all the time around the sunroom and kitchen island. Shows it off to her friends, requests to take it to the park, generally worships the thing, just as we'd hoped all along.

And thank goodness. I almost sent it to China, where starving kids are THANKFUL and RESPECTFUL and actually EAT THEIR GREEN BEANS.

Oh, good gravy. I'm starting to sound like a mom...


Virginia Valerie said...

Ha! OMG. My sis Mel had the EXACT SAME reaction to HER purple bike that I went halvsies on with my parents to get her for Xmas when she was 7 and I was 13. Der Sigh, indeed.

Of course, when I was 11 and my parents unveiled they bike they got me, I was like "A ten speed?!?!?! NOOOOOO!!!! I wanted a CRUISER!!! And it's brown!! Like poop! Everyone will laugh!!! You knew I wanted a cruiser!!!" Yes, I was a little shit too.

charissimo said...

Beautiful post - especially the "little kids are shits" part. In other news: HAIR CUT! HAIR CUT! HAIR CUT! Your public has the right to see it.

MindfulMama said...

You're funny.

And thanks for caring about my blog-vacay. I am tired of the low traffic and no comments. Bah humbug.

Anonymous said...

Yup, kids. You just don't know what they'll do. At least she didn't run from the room screaming.

laterg8r said...

i loooove when kids are underwhelmed! it kills me to hear the silence of the gift giver and all those around! GASP the little princess doesn't LOVE it, what shall we do? LOL

Caroline D. said...

holy crap i just realized that I have TWO WEEKS of unruly helpmeet to catch up on. I'm settling in for some entertainment, i tell you.