Some low-life has stolen my bicycle! What’s more they’ve stolen it from a very secluded part of our backyard making the whole experience very unsettling.
This has happenned before but I doubt I’ll be getting the bike back this time; we hadn’t gotten around to having the bikes engraved.
This is the sight that greeted Jacob and I yesterday morning as we stumbled out onto the pavement ready to face the day and cycle to the creche.
Notice the gaping hole where the “moeder-fiets’, or ‘mother’s bike’, would normally be parked? The bicycle we bought especially so I could put the little baby seat on a safe and reliable bike instead of the fietswrak I used to use? Some klootzak has stolen Jacob and my’s bicycle!
This is what Jacob and I look like cycling around Amsterdam. Just a tad scary don’t you think? Of course what matters here is the sub-textpicture. Just out of sight of the camera rages an intense battle over the handle-bars and steering-rights. Fingernails and fists and crying “My mummy beats me” in baby-language have been resorted to by he-who-shall-remain-nameless. (On your left in the photo.)
By the expression on his face I suspect I’ve captured him at a moment when he was busy with strategy. Me? I’m wrestling for control of the handle-bars, negotiating the chicane through the permanent road works, got one-eye on the traffic lights, the other on the trams, and I’m taking a photo. And people wonder why I find being at work so relaxing?