"Look mom, I can do a wheelie!"
We were in the men's department at Sears. Trying desperately to find some blue jeans and other clothing to fit the rapidly growing 14-year-old boy. We were having marginal luck. Isaac and Esther-Faith were bored. Really, really bored.
So, she learned to do a wheelie.
My heart sank to my stomach--or maybe it lurched into my throat. Either way, I instinctively reached for her chair to keep her from tipping. She wheeled away from me and tipped back again. Looking over her shoulder, laughing, her red curls tousled in the breeze. Her tippers caught her each time, and kept her from tipping all the way back.
She did it over and over and over again. To the delight of her brothers, her father, and a whole audience of shoppers and onlookers.
Tim loved it. Isaiah loved it. Isaac loved it.
I loved that she was learning something new--not so much that it was tricks and tips in her wheelchair.
That is how she rolls, though.
That is how she rolls.