Yesterday afternoon Chad and I went for a motorcycle ride. It was the first time of the season for me to ride. I have been apprehensive about riding because of the pregnancy. I have a whole new set of anxieties and fears now. As we drove out of the neighborhood I wondered silently, "Should I be doing this?"
Chad is an overly cautious person. He knew I was nervous so he went extra slow. We drove to our favorite frozen custard place; 20 minutes from the house. We ordered a large mint-oreo contrete. Behind the drive-thru establishment was a small field of thick grass and trees. We sat in the shade and shared the custard slowly. Chad is a good sharer. We don't eat faster, faster, faster to get more. We go slow and give each other time. I've always liked this about us.
After we finished the custard he showed me how to wistle with grass between my thumbs. I put the grass to my mouth, blew, and shocked myself with the shrill sound that ensued. I was pleased because I typically can't figure things like that out. Then he showed me how to blow into my closed hands to imitate the sound of a whipper-will bird. (That is probably spelled wrong.) I felt like we were kids, playing on a summer afternoon.
On the drive home I was able to relax and enjoy the wind. Chad could tell I was more at ease and he gunned the accelerator on the straight parts of the road. I held on tight and smiled. Soon I'll be too big to fit comfortably behind him on the bike. I'm enjoying our last months of being married without kids.