wet grass, kick ass

trying to clean wet grass off of a cross bike is like fighting a hydra.
each time I think I've got it all off, I look and find yet another clump...

grass from 3 counties, and 2 states have been cleaned off our bikes this week...

a cyclocross meeting, or perhaps just wet grass discussions over coffee and eggs...

the boys in the hood...

We pulled up to a stop light with the boys in the back seat. The car next to us had a young couple,
who were doing some heavy duty petting waiting for the light to change. Ah, young love. I can remember
stealing kisses from Monkey at stop lights like it was last week... oh yeah it was...

Back to our young lovers. I pulled the car up so the boys could see the young couple making out, and I
told them to wave and yell hello. The boys happily abide. Poor young couple, the young man gave a small wave back, face a red as a tomato, as we pulled away. The young lady never looked over at us.


Monkey and I laughed loudly. The boys asked, "why are you laughing?" thankfully oblivious to what just went down.  By the by, the boys are our nephews, we didn't steal them from the mall or anything weird like that...


respect.
fatmarc