HCLM BLOG

It was inevitable. I would have to tell Margaret what happened with the bike. After all, it is HER bike and I (hard to emphasize I) got in an accident. So after she got back from Bahrain, we were talking about how to spend the Thursday afternoon. She suggested talking the dogs for a walk, getting something to eat, taking the Hayabusa out for a ride..."Yeah, about the Busa" I said like a guilty teenager. She said she knew I was hiding something. (Being engaged to a PhD also has it's disadvantages.) Without any evidentuary hearing she exclaimed, "that's it. We're selling the bike." Now I really enjoy the bike. Really, really enjoy the bike. I quickly went into defense attorney mode and opened with my line, "but YOU said that we would sell it if I ever got hurt. See! I'm not hurt, not a scratch." She wasn't impressed with my defense strategy.

I'm not sure where we stand on the bike. Her dad votes for keeping it, as do I. But something tells me that she has more votes then her father and I. But what I'm really wondering is why I couldn't stop and enjoy the fact that the motivation behind her "we're selling" comment was love? She's concerned about my well-being. I was concerned about keeping the bike. Sorry Dr. Christmas. Perhaps I need to get a PhD.

Another question...why am I leaving 80+ degree weather and a nice spot lying by my pool to go to Michigan where, according the weather channel, there is a chance of show showers? That one is easier, my brother is having all six of his children baptized this Sunday.