January 2004

Dad made the huge mistake of referring to Mum as “the old girl” over Christmas dinner…

Actually, no one else seemed to notice - just assumed that it was a term of affection. Not as far as Mum was concerned. Dad even continued to joke his way through the turkey and stuffing, totally oblivious to the fact that Mum had suddenly lost her appetite. She nibbled her way through one slice of meat and half a plate of veggies, leaving the roast tatties and cranberry sauce on the side. She even passed on the cream for her minute piece of Christmas pud.

“Well, your Dad’s right,” she said to me later. “I do look old. My hairstyle hasn’t changed in - well - a long time, and I’ve put on more than half a stone over the past couple of years.”

Actually, in comparison to many of my friends’ mums, I think she looks pretty good. And what’s half a stone between friends?

Two days later, having spent the afternoon at Genie’s playing on her new dance mat she got for Christmas, I came home to a new-look Mum. Not too new, you understand. Just a bit more shape to the old hair style and a few highlights, but combined with what was clearly some new make-up shades and freshly manicured nails, she certainly looked the biz!

But there was more to come… Taking pride of place in the centre of the living room was a brand new purple shiny mountain bike, complete with colour co-ordinated cycle helmet hanging from the handlebars. What’s wrong with that, you may ask. Well, the truth is, Mum had never learned to ride a bike!

Anyway, to cut a long story short, poor Dad was forced to spend every evening (after dark, of course, so no one could see) running up and down the street holding on to the back of Mum’s saddle while she tried to get her balance right. As Dad tried to explain to me later - on the quiet - it is one thing teaching a two stone toddler to ride when their peddling is only as fast as an adult jog. But to try to hold a ten stone grown-up steady, with 28 inch wheels turning faster than an Olympic sprint athlete can run… You get the picture?

Fortunately for Dad’s aching muscles it only took Mum a couple of weeks to master her new machine, and Dad gratefully retired to the TV, carefully ignoring Mum’s pleas for some company on her ever more adventurous cycle routes.

I felt a bit guilty then for not supporting Mum, so began to join her in her fitness crusade. If the truth be known, it was actually good fun. We would cycle for what seemed like hours, chatting about this and that, and I really began to look forward to those ‘mother and daughter moments’.

It was actually Genie’s suggestion one night at Brownies that I should try for my Cyclist badge, so I got out my new badge book to check what I had to do. Dad even pulled himself away from the telly one evening to show both me and Mum how to check the chain, brakes and tyres.

The next afternoon when I got home from school, Mum was raring to go. But it was cold and pouring with rain, and Genie had asked me round to her house to play. Mum looked a bit sad for a second but, undeterred, decided to go anyway, dropping me at Genie’s on the way.

“I’ll be no more than half an hour,” she called over her shoulder, picking up speed as she turned the corner and disappeared from view. I felt a bit guilty for a second or two, but Genie’s computer game was already calling. We were so engrossed in the game that I really didn’t realise how much time had passed. While we waited for the next level to load I glanced at my watch. Mum had been gone nearly two hours! Genie’s Mum thought we should go and look for her, and was just slipping on her shoes when the doorbell rang.

There was Mum - soaked right through, splattered with mud, and pushing her precious bicycle with a very flat front tyre.

“Sorry I was so long, Dot. Rode over a blasted drawing pin! Had to walk two miles to get back here,” she laughed. I don’t think I would still have had a smile on my face.

Later that evening I checked my badge book again. Make a simple repair kit to carry with you when cycling. Don’t think I’ll tell Mum about that bit…

If you want to find out more about Brownies and Guides in your local area why not visit their excellent web site:

www.girlguiding.org.uk