Father Knows Best

On the highway going toward base, there is a motorcycle training course with jumps, ramps, even a bin full of foam and sponges to learn how jump without hurting the rider. (Evidently, the guy that grew up there is on on the pro circuit now.)

ANYWAY, the point is, that every time we drive by there, my youngest son must curtail his coveting and wipe the drool from his face. He talks about how cool it would be to try to jump his bike off these ramps and how it would be really cool if the famlily would open it to "boys with bikes that want to fly."

Jaden's nickname is not "Danger Boy" without reason.

We were coming back from Mass the other day, and of course, the boy starts dreaming. Again. "That would be SO cool!" he exclaims. "I just wish they would let me try it," he sighs.

Then a hopeful, "Dad, will you build me a ramp like that? But for bikes?"

Without missing a beat Chuck responds, "We don't live close enough to a hospital, son."