My son, the biker

I took the training wheels of Alex's bike today.

Seven minutes later he was crying.
It's not like he's a crier and it's not as though I didn't read everything Bicycling magazine wrote about training wheel removal.

Still, he tried, he crashed, he crashed again, and again and three more times and then went storming into
house sobbing that he'll "never be able to ride like Liam."
(Liam is his best friend and has been riding without training wheels for at least a week.)

It started well.

I followed the advice of Bicycling magazine, removed his training wheels, took him to the top of a small
grass-covered hill and let him coast down.

He did perfectly, but when he stopped, he kept his feet on the pedals and fell over.

The second time down the hill, he did the same thing. Even fell over on the same side.

I consulted Bicycling, put a hockey stick between his bike's seat stay arch and the bottom bracket and tried to keep his bike upright by using the stick as a lever.

It worked, until Alex noticed and started complaining that Liam didn't use a
stick.

I took it off and Alex promptly fell over, getting all tangled around the frame in the process.

Bicycling magazine called it a "flesh pretzel."

His last crash was the worst.

We went back to the top of the hill. I made sure the hockey stick was removed, told him to keep his feet off the pedals and tightened his helmet.

I gave him a push and he did awesome. He coasted down the hill, across the sidewalk and right into the neighbour's wooden fence.

I consulted Bicycling but there was nothing about removing splinters from a crying preschooler.