FF #47 and Fatherhood Friday #11

Standing there naked, she straddles one leg over, then the other. “MMMMM, that feels nice,” she thinks to herself as she slowly lowers herself. She feels the warmth envelope her. No man could make her feel this relaxed. Slowly the tension releases from her body. She loved a good hot bubble bath now and again.

Now you all need to get your minds out of the gutter! LOL This week's Flash Fiction has nothing to do with my Fatherhood Friday this week. Sometimes it just becomes too hard to make them connect. To be honest, as with most Fridays, I had nothing for a long time. This just came to me literally 5 minutes ago.

Flash Fiction is brought to you by the G-Man. If you feel like playing along, simply create a story using exactly 55 words, pop over to his place, and let him know you've posted. Easy Peasy, right? :)

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When my brother and I were younger, my dad seemed to be overseas a lot (he was in the Navy. I can only remember a handful of Christmases where he was actually home with us. Like I mentioned before, he was not around as much until we we're heading into our tweens/teens. One of the cool things about my dad coming back from his tours, was when he would bring my brother and I goodies. I don't know if that's because we asked, or maybe it was a dad guilt thing. Perhaps a combination of both.

One of my earliest memories of him coming back and bringing us goodies were getting bicycles similar to this:



I had a red one. It had a glittery red seat similar to this one, but it had white around the sides. It did not have hand brakes. I loved, or I should say, my brother and I loved how high the backs were. They helped for 'relaxing' while riding, or we'd pretend we were riding choppers. An additional item that we added to our bikes were the orange flags that stood taller than the 'sissy' bars. By the way, why do they call them sissy bars? We also had those California license plates with our names on them attached to the back. Those would later go on the bikes we would get a few years later. Anyways, he had also brought us little am/fm pocket-sized radios. We'd hang them by their straps onto our bikes and ride around listening to them. I honestly believe we thought we were the shit.

My next bike my parents bought me was a red, white & blue one with a banana seat. You would have thought either it was the Fourth of July or I was related to Evel Knievel with that baby. It was o.k. to ride, but I remember being a little disappointed at the style. I can't remember what color my brother's new bike was. Maybe I'm permanently scarred by the whole red, white & blue thing.

When we got older, there was a time where we went without bikes for awhile. One Christmas, when I was in 9th grade and my brother in 7th, I had asked for a beach cruiser, my brother asked for a dirt bike. Christmas day came around and there was a black Huffy Good Vibrations beach cruiser (back in the 80s Huffys were not the bikes to have. I didn't care. It was what I wanted). What did my brother get? A ten speed. I have a picture of us somewhere. I'm sitting on my bike happy as a bug in a rug; my brother, not so much, you could tell he was pissed. He was pissed at the fact he got a ten speed, and because I always seemed to get everything I wanted.

In retrospect, maybe I did. My parents often gave my brother and I what we wanted, but I would always get EXACTLY what I wanted, or I would get better things like when we entered Senior year in high school. I got a car off the lot that was two years old, he got a 1977 Chevy Nova my dad bought from one of my brother's friends. I don't know what I would have rather had, getting exactly what I wanted when it came to material things, or the freedom that he got to do things because he was a 'boy'. Even though I was older, I had a curfew when I went out with friends or on a date. He did not. They let him drink with his friends even when he wasn't legal drinking age (not that I would want that privilege. I rarely drink as it is.)

My parents have helped us both over the years when we needed it, but I think my brother felt like they helped me out a lot more. It has caused a rift between my parents and my brother. He still talks to them, but he'll put his wife's family first. He and I haven't talked in about 3 1/2 years. He feels I owe him something. I don't like how he treats my nephew. I miss my nephew and niece, and so do my kids. My brother is generally a good dad & husband considering when he's not working he takes care of the kids, house, laundry, cooking, you name it. My sister-in-law can't be arsed. Now if my brother could just pull his head out from her ass. *sigh*

Funny how one small thing like the memory of a bike can lead you to other memories. Some good, and some not so.

Be sure to visit the other Fatherhood Fridays at Dad Blogs. They even let moms in! :)