We used to take out the seat, and fill the body with water from a garden hose, which would immediately begin to leak out the weep holes. Then we would take off furiously pedaling around the court trying to make it back to the “pit stop” before we “ran out of gas”. Good times. I tell my daughter I wish I was 10 again and she can’t figure why I would want that. The great irony of life, to her all the adult things seem cool, she can’t wait to do them. From the other end, not so much. Being a kid is where it’s at.
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