Our weekend was a one of scooters and fireworks. After dropping the Cabbage off with her mom on Friday, Michael and I traded the car for the scooters and zipped down to the Boulevard for tacos. Saturday we decided to make a picnic and scooter over to Long View Lake for their fireworks extravaganza. The ride home that night was like driving through the Apocalypse with neighborhood fireworks going off all around us. A heavy sulfurous haze settled over the roads and as Michael crested one hill, he almost ran over a guy who was in the process of lighting a firework in the middle of the street. I wonder how long I have to live here before I will get used to fireworks in the neighborhoods and city limits. I don't think it's legal, but no one seems to care too much. Sunday, we rode the scooters back out to the Long View Lake area to get our hairs cut and then to find lunch. Except it was more like lupper because by the time we got there is was three o'clock. 

Friday, as I followed Michael up State Line, I couldn't stop thinking about when Michael bought his scooter. I was in Chicago for BlogHer '13. He sent me a text telling me he was scooter shopping and I had a mild panic attack. Because I knew that he wasn't just buying a scooter. At the time I wanted to say "Dude, don't". Don't buy the scooter. Don't fall for me. Do not get remotely serious about this relationship. His buying the scooter was the equivalent of presenting me a diamond ring while kneeling. I would have none of that, thank you very much. Of course, Michael did a great job of playing it off, like buying the scooter was no big thing. He said if we didn't work out, he'd still have the scooter. Except, I knew better and I did my best to ignore the giant diamond ring in the room or garage and just go with it. Like riding a scooter.

Now whenever we get ready to go somewhere, the question is "Do we take the scooters?" The answer, unless the outing involves a large bag of groceries or the Cabbage, is usually a resounding "yes". There was joy in riding the scooter alone, those weekends when I'd head out into the city to hunt up something new. But it's better with two. Michael always manages to find the longest way to get someplace. He is the winner of stretching out the ride, making the most of the day. Which is his way. He's good at pushing me outside my comfort zone. I don't think I tell him this often enough. So while we munched on chips and fresh guacamole, I told him what I had been thinking about during our ride. I no longer ignore the giant diamond ring that sits in the garage. I just accept it for what it is. 

Years of scooter riding adventures.

Happy Love Thursday!