"Girly-girl" . . .
that's what the coach of my motorcycle class calls me.
How on earth did he figure it out so fast?
What let the cat out of the bag?
It's not like I bought a pink helment
{although it was a temptation, let me tell you.
I mean is this photo cute or what?}
But my helment is a sensible silver. So that's not it.
Could it possibly be that I
cried during my road test?
What?
That's right friends.
I could almost hear Tom Hanks saying,
"Are you crying?!
THERE'S NO CRYING IN
- THE scene from A League of Their Own -
{Although my coach was MUCH NICER.
He gave me a hug. What a relief. Ha ha.}
Oh my.
Why did I cry?
I have to say I'm really tender-hearted,
but not often to the point of tears.
But getting my license has been on my
bucket list.
And I really wanted to do this - to do my best
and succeed. I was super emotional about it.
As the only female in the class,
I wanted to do as well as the guys.
Although a stinky thought entered my mind,
"Maybe you can't do this. Maybe you should just
stick with the stuff you're good at."
For instance . . .
- "Buddy the Elf" - I can relate
. . . or spray painting stuff.
But, I blew my nose
{of course I was prepared with tissues in my pocket}
& persevered. My patient coaches
hung in there with me . . . and ta-da!
I DID IT!
{But you may want to stay off the roads & sidewalks
for a while - I'm just sayin'. *wink*}
