Childhood Tricycle

My favorite Christmas gift was from my grandparents. I was six years old and my younger brother was three years old. It was for the both of us.

My grandparents bought a children’s tricycle with a side cart, for my brother and me so we won’t be homesick missing our parents. My grandparents brought my brother and I to their country when I was five years old. My mother was having a difficult pregnancy with our youngest brother. My mother’s parents came to the United States to visit my mother and take us back with them to Asia.

My brother adjusted better than I did. I was not a happy camper. I felt like a fish that was washed ashore with no water. Very Dramatic, right? I was the most dramatic kid my mother ever known. I felt my mother made me that way. She told me, I would not go anywhere without my corvette ride car.

Let’s get back to the tricycle. My grandparents’ house was three stories high. My grandparents had two maids. You will see why I had to mention them in this story. This could be a mystery but what happened to the tricycle was so hilarious you might laugh.

My grandparents’ country siesta (afternoon nap time) is very important . You have to take a nap at my grandparents every afternoon after lunch. Business closed at siesta time. If you are at the bank and it’s siesta time, the bank teller will just close her window without explanation. Anyway , I thought I would sneak that information in this story. After nap time it’s Miranda time(snack time). Miranda time is just as important as siesta. What country in Asia practices Spanish culture? That’s a trivia question. Why did I had to mention this information? My brother and I had to wait till after late noon to ride our tricycle .We can ride the tricycle after Miranda time. Miranda time is just as important as breakfast and dinner. There are special meals made just for Miranda. That’s a whole story in itself.

Finally, it’s time for my brother and I to play outside. My grandparents had to asked our maid Juaneng to bring the tricycle three stories down a flight of stairs. All the neighbors’ kids were waiting for us to come outside to play, because they also wanted to ride the tricycle. There are only two people allowed to ride the tricycle but I allow four kids to ride on it, including myself the driver. We had the tricycle for over two weeks. It was the last time we ever rode it. I was driving the tricycle happily around the street, when a car came along and I had to carry the tricycle to the side, out of the way of the car coming. The street is small and narrow. The street only fit two cars on the street.

The car is honking at us to move out of the way. I try to carry the tricycle by lifting the handle bars.

The handlebars came off.

I try to lift the seat .

The seat came off.

The car is still honking its horn.

I was getting flustered.

I can’t leave the tricycle in the middle of the street. I told everyone to get off and help me take the parts to the side of the street.

I feel the driver of the car is now just laughing at us.

It was not funny at the time but now looking back, it’s hilarious.

If you asked me, I think it’s the maid who loosen the screws on the tricycle

So she does not have to carry the tricycle up and down the stairs anymore.

Do I blame her, no.

This is my Inside Joke, I share with my middle brother Junior and childhood neighbors.

( looking back this would make a funny episode on the Little Rascals, don’t you think?)