If I Die I Die

So I did the responsible thing when my daughters were young and didn’t have a motorcycle. 
Actually it was Erin’s dream to have a Harley, but I was adamant that that never happen as I was “Unfit in the extreme to raise four daughters by myself!!”
Now she has a Harley, but Harley is a dog our friends own. Several times a week I’ll ask the kids “Where’s mom?”
Erin had three dreams, two of which I destroyed. 
One was to have a Harley but I didn’t want our children orphaned and raised by an idiot so I destroyed that dream. 
One was to have a king size bed which we actually have had for some years now. You’re welcome Erin. 
One was to have a Paul Reid Smith electric guitar which I have but won’t let her play because she’ll destroy it. If you don’t have a really nice guitar you won’t understand. “Erin, you CAN’T drag the pick across the varnish. You’ll wreck it!” 
Also it should be said that guitar cost about as much as my first car. I did my best and bought her a baby Taylor guitar for like $600 but she says it hurts her fingers, so now she plays my beautiful presentation series Taylor (also cost as much as my first car) and leaves it on the floor of the bedroom for someone to step on. 
In her defence she cleaned up her “picking” so it’s all good now. 
In a roundabout way I fulfilled her dream of owning a Harley by buying an MT09 for myself. 
Ladies, I know you think I’m very romantic for doing this (obviously) for her, but I remind you that this romantic soul has eyes for only one woman. Cough cough.  
Romance comes in many forms and I am now outfitting my motorcycle attire in her honour too. 
Now at the best of times Erin makes for a nervous passenger in the car. 
I bought her a Verano Sport whose turbo keeps her well occupied. She complained about going from a full sized SUV to a car until she got behind the wheel and “punched it Chewie!”, now she loves it. It’s a little rocket. 
But when she’s a passenger and I’m driving she always starts overthinking about things like life and death, which is odd because I’m pretty sure I keep it ten under the speed limit sometimes (mostly during acceleration), then she takes a death grip on the arm of the door until I turn and say:
“We on high alert babe?” As I glance at her white knuckled approach to passengerhood. 
So doubling her on my motorcycle was a bit of a question mark because bikes are fast, particularly this one and if she was nervous in an SUV I wondered how she was going to respond to actual danger? 
We went on a trip with some friends to Cochrane with our bikes, and the person in front set a pretty quick pace. 
Granted I had been riding a total of a half day since I was 20, but it was Erin’s first time on the back. There’s a lovely little backroad that twists and turns and we had to dip into the corners a little at speed to keep up. 
In my mind I assumed she’d die of a heart attack as the white knuckled approach gripped me and tried to ask through touch “Are we leaning too far? Should we maybe PULL OUT a little?”
But we arrived safe and sound, and other than having to tell her “Babe, you Can’t pull on me when I’m driving, you just have to relax a little more” she did really great. 
I was surprised to say the least. 
I asked her “How did you manage it? You’re a lot more nervous as a car passenger!?”
She smiled and said “I don’t know. I just told myself ‘If I live I live and if I die I die!’”
I’m not sure if this is a real victory or the preamble to somebody losing their mind, 
But I’m still proud of her:)

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