So one day, The Asshole (My Dad) decides to take all three of his children out for a bike ride. Not a typical bike ride but more like a 2 mile trek with 3 kids under the age of 8 and one 3 wheeler bicycle. You know, the ones that the overweight old people in the trailer parks ride. He decided to walk and let my 8 year old brother drive the bike with my sister and I in the big basket in the back of the bike. Now my Asshole Father is a thinker who had no time to wait for us so he walked ahead and occasionally yelled for us to keep up.. When he walks or drives he is often lost in thought so pretty much anything can and usually does happen around him. (I wonder what the hell the Asshole was thinking about? Probably how to get rid of those three screaming kids that were trailing him). Apparently an 8 year old can not be trusted to drive a fat person’s bike that is 3 times his size along a busy blvd. At some point, he lost control and I being about 4 years old ended up with my head and half of my back bent backwards out of the basket watching as cars were coming at us in all directions. We must have been in an near an intersection because I could hear the screeching of the tires and see headlights surrounding us in what seemed like all directions. At this point The Asshole was still walking down the sidewalk and never even turned around. We screamed for him and at some point he realized that we were no longer following him. He walked back to us,asked my brother what the hell he was doing (as if my 8 year old bro tried to kill us for the fun of it), pushed the bike back onto the sidewalk and we were on our merry way. Good times, good times indeed.