- Your bike MSRP is more than last year's income
- You yell at dudes during an amateur bike race
- You are seriously comfortable wearing shorts and aero booties ***
- You feel like you should pay for nothing related to bike racing/riding. When paying cost, you should act as if you are doing somebody else a favor.
- You no longer ride, you just "train."
- You act as if a 1mm difference in stem height was the difference between being comfortable and uncomfortable
- You spent more time figuring out how to drop weight off your mountain bike than you did doing your taxes
- You arent sitting around being lazy, you are "recovering."
- You lie about how much you ride, actually saying LESS hours than you really do
***especially interesting because you look at every reflective surface possible to check your "bike fit," so you know how ridiculous you look.
Just trying to keep myself in check.
Anyway, Sunday was a long bike riding day. 2 hours to the race, race bikes, 2 hours home from the race. Masterson was the "high man of the day" (in chew voice). He put in the extra 3 or 4 miles it took to meet up for the event.
I am 2 blocks from my house, passing the spot where some guy tried fighting me a few weeks ago. A family of Somali's that we are friends with lives on the corner. My favorite 3 year old in the whole world was standing outside of his house with a family tutor. After the bike fun, I was headed to the park where the tutoring organization was having a picnic for all of the Somali families. My main man had to rush home to go to the bathroom, but was locked out.
I offered my bathroom to him, and they accepted. I dont have kids, havent really been around toddlers, and dont really know the pooping customs of African refugees. This put me in a weird spot. "Do you use this?" showing him the paper. Do you do that, or does your mom? Then I looked down at his legs/shoes/feet. He didnt make it to my house without incident.
So now I have a poop covered infant in my bathroom, sitting on my toilet, to which I have no relation. I have no clothes to put him into, and would feel kind of weird bathing him. His grandmother lives a block away, so I thought I would find her to help out. Luckily, ANOTHER FAMILY is moving in next door to her, and this kids dad was helping them move. He came over, put the kid in a garbage bag and carried him away.
If children were like dogs, and you got to go pick one out, play with it, take it for a walk and hang out before committing to it, I would totally take this kid. As I said, his cousins are moving in this week, which will allow the population of Somali kids in the neighborhood to hit one million or so. Awesome. Summer will be fun.