The Male Humor Gene

So I've been riding bikes with the boys lately. I need the exercise, and it's a way for me to spend time with the guys.

I am not in shape by any means, so I was pleasantly surprised to see how easy it was to keep up with these guys on their bikes. Admittedly, one or two of them were not riding geared bikes, so I did have an advantage. But it still seemed like I was continually having to tell someone to pick up the pace.

I finally cut it down to taking two boys with me at a time. That way we all had geared bikes and could really "get down to business". But still I had one lagging along behind. 

I admit at this point I was feeling a false sense of pride. Maybe I wasn't as out of shape as I thought. Maybe I wasn't as out of shape as the mirror proclaimed. Maybe ...

Maybe the tires weren't fully inflated on all of the bikes. Sure enough, one afternoon I told Luke to make sure all the tires were completely full. As a result the boys had no trouble keeping up with me. But I sure had to struggle to keep up with them! I huffed and I puffed. But hey, this was good for me, wasn't it? 

Now I let them ride on ahead of me. It pushes me to move faster in order to keep my eye on them. Once in a while one or the other of them will look back and then take pity on me. They slow down and coast along for awhile and keep me company. 

However, they're not always that considerate. They have been known to put their bikes in the lowest gear possible. Then they pedal frantically, and slowly pass me although they look like they're sitting still.

If I let them go on ahead, they bike to the next rest bench and then when I arrive, they complain that they should have brought a picnic lunch to enjoy while waiting for me.

They weave huge circles on their bikes, back and forth. They cover miles of extra length this way--all the while still staying slightly ahead of me.

They stop to wait for me, and then watch as I pedal by them sitting on the bench. Then they get on their bikes, pass me, get to the next bench, and sit and wait to do it all over again.

While I'm gasping for breath, they sing and chatter constantly. And then actually expect me to find the breath to answer them.

I've finally decided there's only one way I'm going to survive this quality time with my boys.

I'm letting the air out of their tires as soon as we get home.