I picked Lillian up from child care as usual today, and we were riding home, with her on the tag-along bike.
As we passed through a grove of trees in University Square, she declared that she wanted to go to the toilet.
“Just hold on, we’ll be home soon.”
“DADDY! I WANT TO HAVE A PEE! RIGHT NOW!” at the top of her voice. This was repeated as we rode down the footpath on Grattan Street, much to the amusement of pedestrians.
At the corner of Grattan and Royal Parade, she jumped off the bike and headed back towards the trees.
She had a bit of a tantrum and then we had a stand-off for a while. The look on passers-by’s faces was now one of pity. For me.
Then I hit upon a brilliant tactic.
“Lillian, do you want to ride on Daddy’s seat?”
Her sulkiness dissipated. The offer was irresistable.
So Lillian climbed up onto the seat on my bike. She was unable to reach the pedals or handlebar of course. She held onto my arm while I pushed the bike.
Soon she was singing.
As we were walking, I said “When you’re a BIG girl, you can ride in this seat on your own!”
Lillian, pointing to the tag-along: “Yeah… and when you’re a little girl, you can ride on that seat!”
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