My Daughter's First Bike Ride

For three weeks I ran behind my daughter's bike, holding the back of the seat, promising I wouldn't let go.

On Sunday, I let go.

She didn't notice for about half a block. Then she looked back, saw me standing there, and her face went from panic to absolute delight in about one second. "I'm doing it! Daddy, I'm doing it!" She rode all the way to the end of the street and back, wobbling and shrieking with joy.

Our neighbors came out on their porches to clap. The old man next door, who never says much, actually yelled, "Atta girl!"

That night at dinner, she told the story about six times. Each time, she rode a little farther and a little faster.

I know that letting go is going to be a big part of being her dad. That's a little scary. But watching her fly down that street, I've never been prouder in my life.