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11.5.15

#Blessed

We have a bike trailer that has been around Diamond Lake, Crater Lake, and parts of the Oregon Coast. We also use it around town to bike to the High School, work, or church. But not so much recently since loosing our bike lock cable *birthday present? 
Friday afternoon, Hulk and I were biking to meet a friend and her little minions at a park. Well, I was biking, Hulk was enjoying the view from the trailer while protesting his helmet. 
As we approached a street perpendicular to the one we were on I noticed a car rolling up to the stop sign. The driver was looking the opposite direction and rolled right into the trailer as I crossed in front of him. I don't think the man even realized there was a trailer, he just noticed me in front of him, bike on the ground, and asked if I was ok as he got out of his car. I responded that I just wanted to make sure my child was ok. Hulk had, up until that point, sat calmly in the trailer, car bumper a foot from his face. He started screaming when I took him out and would not let me put him down to check him or take off his helmet for another ten minutes.
The man was very nice, gave me all his contact information and waited with me for a good twenty minutes until my friend was able to round up her minions and give me and Hulk a ride home. JC and I decided that the trailer was beyond repair and so the man bought us a new one. It'll be here in two weeks. Just in time for another bike trip on the coast. 
(our last one before our move to bearcat country)




I pulled the trailer out today to scrap parts from it. Hulk thought we were going for a ride and climbed right in. Glad to know he's not traumatized :)
You can't tell in the pictures but the frame is severely bent.

This evening we watched Meet the Mormon. It doesn't answer questions on church doctrine or history but gives a nice example of what it means to practice the Mormon faith. Today I was able to celebrate my motherhood. I have a set amount of years to try and shape this kicking, screaming, dirty ball of clay I call my son into a man and then I have to give him back to the God who gave him to me so he can do His work. 
I look forward to that day with sadness and trepidation.
But also joy.
A little over 16 years to go until I'm a missionary mom.  

1 comment:

  1. So relieved that future missionary wasn’t hurt!

    ReplyDelete