Family Drama Cycle

This morning, I hopped on my bicycle to take the dogs for a run. I can’t run all the dogs at once so we take turns. First up is always Ziggy, because the energy of the Labrador puppy is something that needs to be expended early in the morning if you want to drink coffee in peace. I ride a quarter mile loop around the neighborhood, staying on the sidewalk for the safety of the dogs. I see neighbors on occasion, but rarely get entertained with family drama. This morning was an exception.

Loop 1: Ziggy is running at top speed and I am pedaling furiously. When we reach Argyle Lane, we see the garage door open at the corner house and Todd, the 15-year old resident, come out in his pajama bottoms, gray tee shirt, and a motorcycle.

Loop 2: Ziggy is still running at top speed and I am pedaling furiously. I am grateful that nobody has parked their car across the sidewalk and that the path has been clear of any obstructions. Todd is pushing the motorcycle up the street. I am venturing a guess that he is trying to start it. He looks pained.

Loop 3: Ziggy is running and I am pedaling. His tongue is hanging from the side of his mouth but he doesn’t let up except to double check that I am still there. Todd is now sitting on the motorcycle with a scowl on his face. He scowls at me and Ziggy. Ziggy runs over to comfort him but Todd does not respond and Ziggy catches up with me. My “good morning, scowling teenage boy,” went unanswered.

Loop 4: Ziggy is running at a fast trot by now and I am encouraging him by pedaling faster. Saliva is escaping the side of his mouth and I can hear him panting. Todd is now cursing the motorcycle and kicking it with his pajama-clad leg. The effect is somewhat comical but I refrain from laughing since snarling teenage boys lack a sense of humor, especially at their expense from middle aged bicycling women. Ziggy refrains from running over to Todd. I think it was the kicking – but I am not sure. Maybe the Zigrador was just getting tired.

Loop 5: Ziggy and I go around the loop on an even keel. He runs and I pedal and we reach Argyle Lane to hear Todd in the garage yelling at his mother. The motorcycle is on the ground and Todd is generous with words that include the Father and Son but not the Holy Ghost. I am not thinking these are church-going words or that Todd and his mother are having a prayer session. I pedal faster because this scowling mood of his has gotten worse and I don’t want him kicking anything else.

Loop 6: Ziggy has entered the house for water and breakfast. He is replaced by Seamus, the brown dog, who has taken well to bicycle runs. He is very cute with his short little legs pumping away and his pink little tongue hanging out. We see Todd’s mother backing the big blue truck out of the garage and Todd waiting on the motorcycle. He is shouting directions at her and she is looking wearing sunglasses and looking annoyed. I don’t look inside the truck long enough to notice details, but I get the impression Mom is wearing jammies and hasn’t brushed her hair yet.

Loop 7: Seamus continues to run and I continue to pedal. I am wondering if I should take him another loop. When we pass our house, the brown dog keeps going, so I guess the answer is YES. When we turn onto Argyle Lane, the big blue truck is slowly driving up the street. Todd has apparently affixed the recalcitrant motorcycle to the back of the truck. He is yelling at his mother to “F%$#%@ slow down!” as she guns the engine. I don’t think that Todd is happy. We cycle past and I call, “Good morning!” to Mom.“ She waves back and Todd continues to shower his mother with expletives. He is liberal with the F-word and I refrain from calling him a potty mouth. I reflect on his use of the word as an adjective and a noun. This is a versatile word.

Loop 8: Seamus is still going like the energizer bunny. We cycle at an even pace and I have to slow down a bit on Argyle because he is beginning to lag a little. Mom is still attempting to pull Todd and his motorcycle and she has inched up the street a few houses. Todd continues to scream at his mother and every other word begins with an F. She is, according to him, not only “F^%$#%@$ stupid,” she “F%$#%@ can’t hear.” I nod to Patty and she gives me a half wave. I reflect upon the disrespect that the scowly, potty-mouth boy is showing to his mother. I call out to her that she should run the motorcycle over. She smiles and nods and Todd unleashes a stream of expletives regarding his mother’s hearing, driving abilities, and intelligence level. He refrains, however, from kicking anything, since he appears pinned beneath the motorcycle. His NFL football jammies are getting dirty but I refrain from offering laundry tips.

Loop 9: Seamus still does not want to stop so we go for a fourth loop. The brown dog is slowing down but still trotting. We reach Argyle Lane and there is no big blue truck, no annoyed mother, and no snarling, potty-mouth teenage boy. There is no motorcycle and all is quiet. I wonder if she just gave up and pulled the truck back into the garage. Had she run over the motorcycle and the boy, it would have been messy. There is no evidence of carnage, no matter how well-deserved.

Loops 10 and 11: It is now Augie’s turn. There is no sign of life on Argyle Lane. In a way I am disappointed.

Loop 12: Duke trots along the bike for one lap. We stop and visit a neighbor for a few minutes and Duke shivers, shakes, and yips at me to get going. We finish our loop and head home.

So ends our Sunday morning drama.