Mama's my ride or die.
Today, ride or die took on a whole new meaning.
Read: Ride AND die.
I exaggerate.
Kinda.
She stuffed me in 'my basket' for a ride on our new bike. My tushy really wanted no part of this, the basket.
The unknown is frightening at times.
This was one of those times.
To her credit we didn't topple, her braking was smooth, and tight turns not too wobbly. We stayed here in our area, not venturing onto public roadways. Thank you, Jesus.
Once she slowed down in front of our place, I was subtle like a freight train, jumping out of my basket. I might have rolled on the ground, shaking my head, and gathering my wits once I got my feet under my little body. My name isn't Maggie GRACE for a reason. It's amazing how she and I share similar traits, freakishly so. I have no grace whatsoever, nor does she. Bull in a China closet type grace perhaps.
Mom tells me she will be tightening my lead harness a bit, next trip.
Oh mom, don't be a drama queen.
xoxo
Maggie Rose
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