My Motorcycle

I have been wanting one for awhile. I finally voiced it the other day.
"Um no."
"I don't feel good about this."
"I'd prefer if you didn't."
"Let's examine your track record."

I suppose I expected this response which is why I haven't vocalized the idea until now. I figured if my dad said yes no one else could tell me no because as a single lady he is the only person I answer to. I should have planned it better because I approached the subject with him just after he reminded me of the time I rolled his lawn mower. (which is a story for another time.) But much to my shock he told me they get good gas mileage, are no more unsafe than a bike (which I ride everywhere now), and (this is the best part) that when you are single with no debt you do whatever the heck you want. Thanks Dad!

My favorite motorcycle exchange was this one between Zac and I:
"I am thinking of getting a motorcyle."
"That is a bad idea."
"But I want one."
"Okay you can have one if you are basically cocooned in safety attire."
"How about if I agree to wear a helmet?"
"Let's discuss your track record."
"I haven't killed myself yet."
"Will you agree to not ride it on the freeway?"
"I can promise that."
"Okay fine."


"You know what I love about this? That you knew if you said no I would do it anyway. So you took the opportunity to at least get to me to adopt a few safe practices."
"Let's try to avoid that reckless behavior we talked about earlier."
"Deal."



By the end of the conversation we had worked out these rules, I have to wear a helmet, stay off the freeway, and get health insurance. I think that sounds fair.