By the time I was in second grade, it seemed like all the town kids had bikes. I was wildly envious of them parking their bikes as I stomped off the bus like the clodhopper I was. Fortunately, bikes were off limits on the playground so I didn’t have to feel deprived about that.
Of course, as Christmas approached, I started in on Mother. I knew just what kind of bike I wanted, a blue Schwinn Spitfire. A realist, Mother let me know I definitely wouldn’t be getting a bike.
“Can’t Santa bring me one?” I asked.
“No, parents have to help pay for the things Santa brings. We don’t have the money.”
That cleared up all my questions about Santa Claus. I wanted to stamp my foot and say “Darn!” but I knew better.
Nutsrok 
It’s hard to be disappointed as a kid. I don’t think we ever got bikes as gifts. My dad would find them somewhere – maybe the junk yard. We all had a bike, but they weren’t new or gifts.
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All kids are bipolar. The thrills and disappointments are extreme.
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I don’t think that read right. I was trying to say being disappointed as a kid was really hard to swallow. I hated being disappointed as a kid. But you are right – thrills and disappointments to the extreme.
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No kidding. I’ve never been so disappointed as an adult.
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I don’t remember how old I was when I was given a bike, I did ride it a lot, wouldn’t be able to ride one today well not one with two wheels, I have seen many with three whiles one of them I could ride
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Those three wheelers look kind of rigorous.
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I have never seen one up close, only from a distance
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Mother tried one. It was too heavy but she’s small and had a bad knee.
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Your but would get a whooping
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And frequently did.
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