Nostalgic Christmas Nightmare: The Time My Parents Stole My Bike

As a forty-year-old man, I have a lot of things in my life that I need a therapist to work through. One such case is when my parents stole my bike and gave it to another kid in the neighborhood, only to replace mine at Christmas with a shittier bike. At the time I was maybe thirteen or fourteen, and this was no ordinary bike. This was an awesome mountain bike that had, what I called, a lava paint job. The paint was a mixture of black and metallic red bubbles, and looked like a mistake in the factory that ended up working out really well. I loved that bike and it wasn't a bike I was ever going to outgrow, as it was a standard sized mountain bike.

The memory of the day I was accosted and my bike was stolen is burned into my brain. I was sitting on my bike, taking a short break from having been out riding, when my Dad walked up to me, followed closely by the stepdad of the kid who they ended up giving it to. My Dad repeatedly said "Get off the bike.", in a tone as if I had done something wrong. Feeling as if I was being cornered, as well as being a kid, I complied with his repeated demands. I was told that he and Mom decided to give my bike to the kid across the street. So my Dad teamed up with a man he still calls a worthless alcoholic to this day, to corner me and steal my bike to give to the kid across the street. The kid in question is currently serving a 200 plus year sentence in prison. YES! The kid who ended up with my bike is currently in prison for some seriously fucked up shit.

I still hold resentment for this moment, but sadly that bike is long gone now. I didn't have a bike for a few months, until I ended up getting the new one for Christmas. The bike that I ended up getting to replace it was a seriously shitty bike. The colors were grey and green, and it was truly fucking awful. I hated that bike. I often thought about dumping that bike in a creek or selling it off, but then I would be left without a bike again, so I decided a shitty bike is better than no bike at all. I don't think the kid across the street used my old bike that often either, but he claimed to love it, so I knew trying to trick him into trading for my new shitty bike wasn't going to happen. I don't blame the kid who ended up with my bike, at least not for this incident, he didn't have a bike at all. I blame my parents for scheming behind my back and not even asking me. That was one of the shittiest parenting moves in the history of parenting.