My little red scooter
As a child, like most children I was given a favorite toy at Christmas time. I was 6 years old when Santa brought me a little red scooter. I loved that scooter more than any doll or other gift I was given. Living out in the country, my parents let me ride my scooter through the house from room to room.
One weekend I took my red scooter with me to visit my grandmother in Wilmington. She had a sidewalk in front of her house. That was wonderful, giving me a longer ride, not having to dodge furniture and door frames as I did at home.
For whatever reason when I returned home, I left my scooter at my grandmother's. When I returned a week later, after hugs and kisses, the first thing I did was go to look for my scooter. It was nowhere to be found. I was so upset. My grandmother said she gave it away because she was afraid I would run out into the street and be hit by a passing car. I was upset with her and the loss I felt.
I could not wait for my children to have a little red scooter so I could ride it, too. But it was not the same. Now, at 70, I get the giggles. I know it is not funny, but what if my doctor had to call my son saying, "Your mother fell and broke her hip while she was riding a red scooter."