Scooter

The box says it is for children five or older. Tahlia is two.

Mya began riding her scooter when she was two and a half, almost three.

Sarah is the first child who had the scooter. Tahlia doesn't really care about Sarah; Mya is the important one.

Mya has a scooter. The scooter is red.

Tahlia, of course, has a scooter.

When given the choice of what color scooter she would like, most would think she would have said red. I completely thought she would want a red scooter so that she would be just like Mya. She chose black. After giving her the option of black or red, as they were the two scooters on display, I realized that I should have checked to see what colors were in stock. I panicked as the realization hit me that there were a plethora of blue scooters, a choice not visible in the display, but, seemingly, no black scooters. I dug further back, past the green scooters. Past the red scooters. Past the pink scooter -- was that even a color choice? To finally find two black scooters. Many may wonder why a large store like Toys-R-Us would have two colors on display with few in stock. I wondered that same question and was ready to complain to management when I discovered the second section of scooters, almost entirely black.

I opened the box, much like an ignorant archaeologist's assistant who has helped to find the rare remains of some lost emperor, and showed Tahlia the contents.

"Black scoota'," she stolidly retorts, just as the lead archaeologist would respond knowing all along that the treasure would be as she suspected -- no surprises.

I suddenly realize, upon closer inspection, that she could have had a green scooter, or a blue scooter, or even a pink scooter. I decide to stay quiet and let her revel in the idea that she has made a wise choice between the two options.

As we near the cashier, the Catholic guilt becomes overwhelming. What will happen if, say, in ten years, a twelve year old girl, who could have won it all in the X-game scooter half pike, looks me in the eye, a shiny silver medal around her neck, and says, "There were other colors? Other colors?" incredulity oozing from every word. "But you gave me two choices. You said red or black. Why Dad? If I had the hot pink one, I would have won it all. WON IT ALL!" Add cameras flashing. Add her six to nine year old fans swarming around. It all was too much for me to bear. I broke down.

Squatting beside her, I gazed into her eyes. I hoped that she could forgive me. I wanted her to know that there were other choices. I didn't mean to hold it from her. I wanted to take it back. For a moment, there in Toys-R-Us, I almost screamed to the heavens, "WHY!!! WHY!!!!!" Instead, I said, "Tahlia, are you sure you want black? You can have any of these colors." I pointed at the red, the green, the black, the blue, and even the hot pink. Terror flooded my mind as I realized there was the grave potential that I would be steering a two year old around a playground with a hot pink scooter. For this reason, I may not have given the pink the same amount of attention as the blue, or the green for that matter.

She squatted beside me. Putting a contemplative index finger along side of her mouth, she gazed at the colors. Finally, she nodded, "Black."

My anxiety drained, and we proceeded to the checkout booth.

If you ask her about her scooter, she will tell you it is black; she will also tell you that Mya has a red one. It amazes me, even with all of the admiration she has for Mya, she still wanted something different than what Mya has.

Either way, she is still much too little for the scooter, and still does not have the coordination to ride it by herself. Therefore, with a bright pink helmet on, she is guided around the playground by her Daddy who is hunched over trying to help her go as quickly as Mya who whips around the blacktop at break neck speeds. Maybe the box is right, and the scooter should only be ridden by children five or older. But all Tahlia seems to care about at the moment is, "What Mya doing?"