“Aaaah”! I yawned as I awoke around 8:00 a.m. about four Saturdays ago.  I was ready for a big day of motorcycle riding on my 78 acre farm of trails and jumps.
     I worked my way into the kitchen where my mother was standing with a delicious pan full of cinnamon rolls; I licked my lips as I walked over to the table.  As soon as I finished, I told my mom I was going to put my motorcycle gear on.
     But…. “No! It is too wet right now; you need to go ask your dad,” my mother snapped at me.  My dad was outside getting ready to haul a load of tobacco to the barn.
    “ Dad” I said in a squeaky voice. “I was wondering if I could ride today or is it still too wet from the rain?”
     “Well you need to wait until it dries up; it is too slippery right now.”
     “Ok” I said very irritably, My Dad’s rules are so Stupid, I thought to myself.
     I stomped back to my room; I sat there thinking how stupid it was that I couldn't ride.  But I would soon find out that it wasn't that stupid after all, (I wish I would have that about that then)/
     Finally after Dad left for the barn and Mom was doing some laundry, I put on my gear and sneaked out the kitchen door to where my motorcycle was parked.  I knew that I was doing the wrong thing, but I wanted to ride so bad that I did it anyway.  So, I got on my motorcycle and tried to kick start it, an the first 4 times I tried tit didn't start. It was like a message from God not to do it, but as the story goes I kicked one more time at it fired up I tried to keep the throttle as low as I could so my parents wouldn't here it.
     I took a look at my gas, just to make sure I had enough to ride at least a couple of miles.  I had plenty.  I took off; I flew through the trails with the cool wind in my face.  Then, I saw my Dad; he was parked at the shed working on the tractor.  I shifted up into fourth gear and sped up quickly; I was half way to him when my back flew up in the air.  I fell off, hit the ground, and went rolling.  I felt like I was being pounded over and over by Mike Tyson or something.  After what seemed like a century, the motorcycle came down out of the air and the handle bars hit me in the side.  We skidded for a minimum of fifteen feet.  It was at this point that I started to think, I'm gonna be grounded forever, plus have to be taken to the hospital at the same time.  My side was severely bruised and it hurt deep into stomach.
     Finally, I stopped and caught my breath.  I very slowly go up and limped over to my furious father.  I can hear him now.  “Son, why don't you ever dad gum listen to me, one of these days your going to get killed.”  He examined me and decided that I was okay, but grounded me from my motorcycle for a whole week.  Not being able to ride for a week to me, is like not going shopping for a year to my mom, that's serious!
    From this breath taking experience I learned to listen to my parents when they say something; they are almost always right.  They say all those things to protect you.  Today, I'm still riding, but only when I am not grounded, and when I'm allowed to, you should do the same, just so you won't get grounded or hurt.  Not that you shouldn't think for yourself, but life is to wonderful to lose.  Believe me, I learned the hard way!