TW's

Alright, so I'll start this by just saying I think I've always been a little "off the beaten path."  When I was learning to ride a bike without training wheels, I guess I did something a little funny.  Now, I don't personally remember this, but have been told by reliable sources it actually went down.  

I was four and was attempting that ever frustrating task of riding without the tw's.  It was spring on the farm, well, I suppose it was spring for the town too, but anyways, Dad-o was working in the yard getting ready for seeding and Mom was helping him.  I was trying and trying and trying to figure it out by myself {ever an independent}, but just couldn't get the hang of it.  Then, apparently, this is what came out of my mouth, as I was in the middle of our circle driveway standing over my bike, that was heard by Mom...

"Help, save, comfort, and defend us gracious Lord."    

I was staring down at my bike saying, "Help, save, comfort, and defend us gracious Lord" over and over again.  Now, I'm not sure if I was actually praying for help with the whole riding without the tw's or what was going on.  I do know that is a line that is said every Sunday in the liturgy of the Lutheran church and apparently it had really stuck with me because there I was, four years old, standing by my little cute bike with a basket saying, "Help, save, comfort, and defend us gracious Lord."  How Mom and Dad-o could keep a straight face when they came up to talk to me is beyond me.  Maybe they were used to my antics...well, they had to have been used to them by then.  

Turns out, Dad-o felt a little sorry for me standing in the middle of the yard praying to learn how to ride without the tw's.  He actually jumped on my little cute bike with a basket and rode it {this part I do remember because if you know my father at all, you know this would be quite the sight}, all the while telling me how it wasn't hard, you just had to pay attention.  Ummmm, excuse me Dad-o, had you met me?  Pay attention; that doesn't so much happen.  So, anyways, Dad-o did succeed with teaching me to ride without the tw's that day.  And, I don't even think I had to say "Help, save, comfort, and defend us gracious Lord" again.

This is me asking Dad-o to take my training wheels off...notice he's reaching for the trusty pliers with his right hand.  Also, please notice the dog, Tina, she was a little bit better than fabulous and I don't even like dogs.  Also, please notice that my and Dad-o's outfits scream 1987.   

And, here is the actual taking off the tw's.  Right before the "Help, save, comfort, and defend us gracious Lord" incident.  I'm hoping this will help you visualize just how funny it was to see Dad-o riding that little cute bike with a basket.    

I feel like with the hectic-ness of my life right now, I could stand over a number of things {thesis mainly} and send out a little "Help, save, comfort, and defend us gracious Lord."  Maybe I'll try that strategy this evening...