Personal Narrative-The Two-Wheeler

The Two-Wheeler

Whoosh! I felt the air brush my skin as my older neighbors zipped around on their big boy bikes. It seemed as if they were mocking me as I sat on my little bike with it’s stupid training wheels followed me everywhere I went like they were two bodyguards that never gave me any space. It was at this moment that I realized I needed to get rid of them.

I rushed inside. I smelled something, something good. “Pancakes”, I headed into the kitchen. There she was. Making some of my favorite pancakes was my mother. There were chocolate chip, blueberry, and plain. She was also making eggs, sausage, and bacon. I decided I would talk to her after breakfast. I hopped up to the table and laid my eyes on the feast. I quickly gobbled down my breakfast. After cleaning up I went up to my mom. “Can we take my training wheels off?”
“No”, she replied with stern tone. “Why not?”, I asked.
“Because you’re not ready and you could get hurt”.
“Please”,
I was moving, but not fast enough to stay up. I felt myself lose balance and then, down I went. I felt my knees scrape against the ground and then my little bike falling on my tiny toddler body. My mom went inside to get me some band-aids. Tears quickly started to trickle down my face as I sat there sobbing as if I broke my legs. By the time my mom came back out I had stopped crying. She put some Neosporin on my knees and then applied my Spongebob Squarepants band-aids to the skin. After that, I was really scared of repeating this event. I went inside for a short break. After a couple of hours I felt like I was finally ready to try again. I strapped on my helmet and prepared myself to attempt my second try at riding my bike without the training wheels. As I swung my leg over the bike thoughts of my last attempt started to replay over and over again in my head. I knew I couldn’t ride with the training wheels my whole life and that I had to learn now. I was ready. My