Helmet Head

Last week was beautiful weather around here and the kids were out of school. You don’t get those sort of coincidences too very often in these parts. So the boys and I dusted off and tuned up the bikes for the season. We cleaned, lubed, adjusted, and inflated everything that needed attention in preparation for an outing that same afternoon. A smooth procedure except for the emergent need for a trip to the bike shop when Tyler somehow ripped the entire valve stem out of his tire while pressurizing it.

As the last part of this process, given that they are both still growing, I checked and refitted their helmets. Mine simply hung off my handlebars waiting for us to leave because after all, I’m ancient and my head doesn’t change shape anymore. All of which is foreshadowing the “Doh!” moment as we were about to ride away and I popped it on my head, only to become suddenly aware that having a metal plate fastened to your skull does, in fact, seem to change the shape and size of your head. Doh! Oh well, at least this delay didn’t require another trip to the bike shop.

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