it was like that little boy from The Incredibles

Me, a sweaty out-of-breath lady. 

On his toy motorcycle, little precious boy.

I jog by and wave as he waits in his driveway.
He smiles and waves back.
Then I hear rapid pedaling behind me and he’s riding his motorcycle beside me.
“That’s a pretty fast bike you got there, dude.”
“Yeah, and that’s without even pushing the pedal!”
Then he pushes the pedal and the pretend miniature motorcycle turns in to an actual motorcycle.
He zips down the highway sidewalk and I want to shout out, “Where’s your helmet, fella?!”
But I don’t and he’s already headed back my way.
He pulls over in another driveway to wait for me and I ask him, “Hey, do you have a license?!”
And be damned if he didn’t give a good laugh and ride off.

Shit, kid. If you were 20 years older and that bike was 5x bigger... I’d probably be too scared to talk to you.