Today Cheyenne pointed out a young woman travelling as a passenger on the back of a motorcycle. The motorcycle was the type that the passenger sits up higher than the driver. The young woman and the driver both had on helmets (brownie points for smart risk management), but the clothes the pair had on were dramatically different. The driver had on a t-shirt, jeans, socks, and shoes. The young woman had on a tank top, short jean shorts, and sandals.
Cheyenne upon seeing them commented that the girl was going to lose a lot of skin if the bike went down. Apparently, all the years of me commenting on riders’ clothing has rubbed off on Cheyenne…GOOD. I was thrilled that she recognized how dangerously vulnerable the young woman was given her outfit.
I wanted to roll down the window and tell the young woman about my former sister-in-law who hit the pavement when a motorcycle she was on went down (she had on a helmet and a lot more clothing). She was lucky to survive. In the process she lost skin and gained a whole lot of metal and pins.
Cheyenne begged me not to say anything, she offered that the young woman wasn’t going to listen to some crazy woman she didn’t know. She had a point…I have no influence in this young woman’s life and there is no reason to believe she would listen to me.
Dear mother of the young woman on the back of the motorcycle,
Your daughter is beautiful and full of life. She probably doesn’t fully appreciate how much damage the pavement will do to her bare skin should the bike go down. Young folks often are oblivious to their vulnerability.
Once upon a time I was just like your daughter. I wore very similar outfits and no helmet. I never realized how dangerous that behavior was. My mother never knew I was riding around like that – I never told her. As I reflect back now, I am sure she would have had a fit (she was never a fan of motorcycles). Luckily, I survived those choices without any real consequences.
As such, I hand this one off to you as you have the access and influence. I can tell you from my experience today with my own daughter – daughters actually do listen to their mothers.
The mother of another young woman
Day one thousand one hundred and eight of the new forty – obla di obla da