Story Time

My Inner Incredible Hulk

I can’t ride a bike. Okay– I can ride a bike, but I’m not good at it. Compared to my peers I was late in learning this skill. I was in the fifth grade, 10-years-old. 

Here’s the story why I don’t ever ride a bike.

My family was being visited by my aunt and uncle from their home in Florida. I couldn’t wait to show them my bike and what I had been working on. One evening during their visit, I had just taken my shower and put on these totally 90’s lime green and floral patterned pajamas. My mother, my aunt, and I walked outside and I grabbed my bike. We had a huge hill in our backyard so I thought if I started up there I would have the best chance of successfully riding my bike and showing my aunt what I could do. I made sure my mother and aunt were watching, and then I began to peddle. As I picked up speed I let my feet off the peddles. Bad idea. I quickly lost my balance and drifted off into the trunk of a Magnolia tree. I untangled myself from my bike and brushed off a couple of leaves. I turned around to face my mother and aunt; I was so embarrassed. You know that kind of embarrassment where a warm sensation floods underneath your skin? Well, that feeling transferred into anger. I turned back around to my bike, picked it up, and threw as far as I could. I then grabbed the shirt fabric of my pajamas and ripped it open. Little lime green buttons went flying everywhere. I only remember breathing really heavy… It like was I was in my own little world until I heard my mother yell, “Rachel Marshall Melvin, you better pick up every last button off this ground!” My head whipped around and we locked eyes. She was mad.

It was a tense situation then, but now it’s a hilarious story to tell. Between the green in my pajamas and my anger, I was a 10-year-old Hulk. 

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2 thoughts on “Story Time”

  1. I love this story. I had a cousin whose fav game to play when she was about four was The Incredible Hulk. She’s run around trying to rip her shirt off and wrestling with everyone.

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