My brother walked in to my office one day and declared that he wanted a motorcycle.
My round, mop-headed, Jewish little brother decided that he wants a motorcycle.
Universe, you're a strange one.
Anywhoozie, his discussions of a motorcycle put my husband back on the motorcycle kick that he gets on once every three years or so. All of a sudden, all of the talk in my house was moto-bike, moto-bike, moto-bike.
Did I mention that I'm not a big fan?
Anyway, while they were off in Boyland, where boys go when they want ridiculous and expensive toys, I was in reality land thinking about how expensive and inconvenient it is to have your brains splattered on the side walk.
SO NOT CONVENIENT.
I was nervous about it, but they decided to go take a training course on how to ride. Okay, fine.
Then they went shopping. The endorsements went on the license. They were legal to ride and buy motorcycles.
WHAT THE DEUCE?
Then I lost my damn mind.
My husband is particular (read: a terror) at Christmas time, and pretty much hates his presents every year. He returns everything that has been purchased for him, and if he doesn't return it, he hates it and stares at it with hate in his eyes. He is ridiculous about it. I hate Christmas every year.
That could explain why I was in hiding for so long at the end of the year.
Beside the point.
ANYWAY, I woke up one morning and realized that I was no longer on this planet. I decided that, as a means to make sure that my husband would actually like his Christmas and not give me shit for the rest of the year about how bad it was, I WAS GOING TO BUY HIM A BIKE.
And, with a few twists and turns along the way, that's pretty much what happened.
He is now the proud owner of a Harley Davidson Rocker C that he loves like a whole lot. Little brother then bought a Harley Davidson 883C.
And then something magical happened.
Aside from little brother laying his bike down the first time he rode it, the two of them have been out palling around and riding their bikes...
AND I'VE BEEN HOME ALONE. BY MYSELF. IN PEACE AND QUIET. WITHOUT ANYONE MAKING ME FEEL BAD FOR BEING A LONER WHO LIKES TO SIT ON THE COUCH AND WATCH TV AND UNWIND.
I worry about them when they're out, but they don't go far or very fast. They're both still learning. They have all the protective gear, and they aren't allowed on major highways yet. That's my rule, not the government's.
And while I'm worrying, I'M SITTING IN A QUIET HOUSE, EATING PRETZELS AND WATCHING SHELDON COOPER ON TV.
I don't even care how much the damn bike costs. My sanity is PRICELESS.
As always, it's hip to be square (and a total loner), kids.