What's good for the goose is good for the gander...

So, Mr. GoingApe and I got bicycles. See, that's a long story. Someone stole my bike, but then I found it and took it back. But they broke a lot of stuff on it. So my thought was, "I'll take my graduation money and buy myself a bicycle. Then I'll fix up my old one for Mr.GoingApe." Yeah, so, I bought myself this bike. And that was all good. And I started to work on my old bike, but the chain guard was broken, and the mean person who stole it before had broken the gear shift and Elmer's glued it back on. Yeah, so I gave up on that and just took the rest of my graduation money and bought old Mr. GoingApe his own bike, because what fun is it to ride alone?

And Saturday we rode for two hours and my buttocks hurt really badly. And so did his. But that's not the real story. The real story happened today, in the huge park just down from our house. (Hey, there are some perks to being in the suburubs.) So, cool teenage boy passes me, looking very confident in his bike riding ability. Zooming past without the typical "On your left!" warning. He is doing somersalts on the seat, driving with his toes, and all sorts of fancy things that I no longer do on bicycles. Or when I'm standing still, for that matter.

Cool teenage boy also passes Mr.GoingApe, flies around a curve, and directly into....duh duh duh! A GOOSE! Feathers go flying, the gaggle of geese honk, boy falls down, goose (or maybe it was a gander) flees the scene of said accident, and I wait until we're two curves away to laugh.

But I laughed hard. I'm laughing now. Maybe I'm mean, but comedy that good only comes along once in a rare while.