Riding on Bikes with Boys

Rod and I recently celebrated our anniversary, which means that I have, for the last eight years, been a most blessed woman. He is a good man and a great husband and father.
I digress.

There is a dear lady in our church who cares deeply about marriage; she wants to celebrate it when she can and help to preserve it when possible. It is something that is close to her heart. Because she is a dear woman and friend, on our anniversary she brought us over a card and a fresh lemon meringue pie, which just happens to be one of my favourites.

She and I got to talking about many things, and so I will admit that I wasn't being the most observant as to what my children were doing.

Which meant that I didn't notice that G had stepped outside the front door for a minute.

Or that he had taken the bag (with the pie) with him.

Or that he took the pie for a bike ride.

Or that he by accident dropped the bag.

Or that he RODE OVER the pie with his bike.

But I did notice him sheepishly putting the bag back inside. Not that that got us anywhere.



We ate it anyway. Why not?