"That's My Bike!"
My brother and I were riding our bikes around the front of our rental home. His ride was a babyish vehicle. I had a bad-a** Big Wheel.
The only reason I can easily recall this story is my dad filmed the whole thing with his giant video camera. It was like having a news station capturing your life. Or being the star of a reality TV show before they existed.
My five year old self ran inside for a potty break.
My brother looked around and noticed I was gone. He took this chance to hop on MY BIG WHEEL.
IT'S GOING TO BE WORLD WAR III WHEN SHE COMES BACK OUT. - My dad's narration.
And sure enough it was.
A_______! THAT'S MY BIKE!
I picked up his little tricycle and hurled it into the street. I was like the hulk. But not green. And this ugly interaction became the stuff of legends.
I still yell this phrase to my brother as a joke.
So imagine my delight as I watched Little E hop onto Big E's Spiderman bike after he had gone inside. Little E was so proud of himself as he rode back and forth.
Then I heard the door from the house to the garage slam shut. Big E was back.
And a smile crept onto my face as I knew what was about to happen even before the words escaped his mouth.
LITTLE E, THAT'S MY BIKE! GET OFF!
And with that, I burst into giggles.
The Circle of Life played in my brain and I felt the urge to hold up Big E to the sun and present him as the gift he was.