Training Wheels

Thinking back, I sure had my 'training wheels' removed early. And I'm just having to wonder, too, how people typically learn how to ride a bicycle.

Is it a common experience for people to learn how to balance on a bicycle from their fathers? Brothers maybe?

'Typical' and 'common' definitely not words that I'd use to describe my life. I learnt how to ride a bicycle from my cousins.

Now that I think of it, I do spent quite a lot of time at my aunt's place when I was younger. It didn't occur to me at all up until today.

So it was along the corridor of my cousins' flat in Chai Chee that I stumbled and fumbled on a bicycle WITHOUT training wheels. Back then, owning a bicycle was kinda luxurious, one of many perks which I obviously did not enjoy. Therefore, Kex and QingHong if you reading this, you have rather luxurious lives eh!

But of course how we live our lives is, I believe, completely within our control. It's your life, so take charge of it! No point being jealous or envious of others. "To each his own,"as Kalis never fails to say (well, the old and outdated hostile Kalis, at least).

*snigger snigger snigger*

(sniggered 3 times because I cannot remember the last time I poked fun at someone and ACTUALLY enjoyed it...)

Anyways, I remember how smooth the concrete corridor was (still is, I think), and how, well, GREY(I'm beginning to discover that some preferences of mine have reference to childhood experiences. *gasps!) it was as well. It seemed like pretty safe and friendly ground to practise on, or so you think!

Lined alongside the corridor were the many potted plants of the neighbours. I remember clearly those menacing, towering cacti, and that's pretty much all I remember about the plants. Cacti! Can you imagine my fear of crashing into one of those dreadful spiked plants?!

That's why, I think, to date, I develop nausea at the thought of having something piercing through my flesh and then COMING BACK OUT. *shudders* Hence, I'm piercing-free. But that't not the point lah.

If I recall correctly as well, when my cousins were coaching me to ride a bicycle, I was the only one among them who didn't know how to balance on a bicycle. Around the same era, I think I couldn't swim too.

It must be a coincidence that I kinda learnt how to swim hanging out with my cousins too.

Our mothers used to bring us to Bedok Swimming Complex quite frequently. Then I think as time went by, I just 'upgraded' from the kids' pool to the adult pool. You know how kids used to have those fancy floats around their arms? Like those things you use to measure your blood pressure, only poofier?

Well, didn't have it too. Not a luxurious childhood, if you'd asked me. But it wasn't THAT bad after all lah, huh.

But then as we grew older, we just stopped going swimming together. Well, me at least. You know how adolescency simply makes us more self-conscious right? I will not be caught dead in a pair of trunks(yet the more 'conservative' ones are just plain UGLY). Hanging out at a swimming complex is well gay, anyways.

I believe I just forgot what the point of this entry is about. All that recollection taking its toll...