I did something I swore to the good Lord above I would never do-- in order to preserve the life of one parent; ride on King Ralph's motorcycle. It was all the King really wanted for an anniversary present. So I obliged. I put on the helmet he specially bought for me, which is a cross between looking like a Storm Trooper and Transformer. Of course a gal like me cannot saddle up on a Harley without the offspring rushing out with cameras to record the moment for all time. When I first started on the ride I felt like I was on a roller coaster without a safety bar. It was kin to my fear of heights with no security boundaries. I laced my fingers through King Ralph's belt loops and locked them to my palms till the hands were purple and numb with finger nail indentations. To ease matters I stared at the back of a helmet that said "skid lid." Then suddenly when I least expected it I fell right into a comfort zone--placed my hands on my lap and let the wind hit my face as we cruised down the country roads. In front of us were King Ralph's cousin and his wife. We stopped at a wine bar that over looked the Mississippi River sat on the patio watching the Cardinal game on the outdoor screen, ate and sipped wine. Well, I sipped wine.
Next thing I know King Ralph decides he and I, along with the cousin couple are a little motorcycle gang. Another scheduled excursion for us four the following weekend was planned. There we sat on the patio of the Montelle Winery all of us sipping blackberry wine, listening to my co-worker's hubby's band sing to us on a beautiful May 30 evening.
Now this motorcycle loving brainwash needs to stop because I found myself on the back of King Ralph's bitch again heading to his sister's to swim. If my offspring weren't bad enough with cameras, my sister-in-law had to snap photos for herself as we headed home.
As Father's Day approaches the cousin-in-law and I are sending our men on a real life Wild Hogs trip. A trip like this does not welcome the wives. To which I believe deserves an--Amen!