The children who ride on the back of my motorcycle will stop riding one day

My children love my motorcycle.
"The weather's nice, I want to ride the bike!"
"Can we go to nursery school on the bike today?"
"I'm going too!"
They're making a ruckus in the living room from the morning.
My second son.
I'm sorry, but only one person can ride on the back of the bike.

On the other hand, my wife rode on the back once and said, "I've had enough."
It seems the fear outweighed the pleasure of riding the bike.
When we got home and my wife took off her helmet, she didn't say much.
She probably had a lot on her mind, but
I didn't ask too deeply.

Since then, my wife hasn't ridden it once.

The difference in sensibility between adults and children is clear in moments like this.


My eldest daughter and second daughter rode it often after the bike came to our house, but my eldest son was still small and it seemed dangerous, so he had to wait for a while.

My eldest son first rode on the back on his third birthday.

He looked like a walking helmet.

When I told him to hold on tight, he clung to my back with his small hands.

I start the engine.

That alone makes him overjoyed.
He probably intended to go on a grand adventure.

Even though our destination was a convenience store within walking distance.

Every time we waited at a traffic light,
"Are we there yet?"
"Not yet."
"Do they have my favorite snacks?"
"They do."
We had conversations like that.

When we arrived and I took off his helmet, my eldest son gave me a smile like he had come to a theme park.
At a local convenience store, that is.

He was excited all the way home, and as soon as we got home, he reported to my wife,
"The bike was super fast!"
"The wind was amazing!"
"They had Jagariko!"
That's all that matters.

I only went 20km/h because it's dangerous, though.
After that, my eldest son also became a fan of the bike, and the children started taking turns riding on the back of my bike.

Just like when an older child graduates and the next one enrolls, the back seat was always filled with someone.

My eldest son liked looking at the scenery, and he was the type to sit on the back while looking sideways the whole time.

He would give me a play-by-play of everything from dogs on the side of the road and cloud shapes to the types of cars that passed by, so there was a lot of information.
My second daughter would dance while singing popular songs.

Her pitch was free-spirited, but her volume was top-notch.
She was moving around so much on the back that I wondered what was going on when I first saw it.

My eldest daughter is good at riding on the back.
She has a sense for shifting her weight, so she fits well with my driving.
Without a doubt, my eldest daughter is the one I feel most at ease with when she's on the back.

My second son is still too small to ride, so he would always throw a tantrum, saying, "Why can't I ride too!"
Because you're too small and it's dangerous.
Let's ride when you get a little bigger.


When you have many children, drop-offs and pick-ups are quite busy.
When my second daughter was in nursery school, it was common for me to make two round trips from the morning to drop off my eldest son and second daughter respectively.

When I return after dropping off the first one, the next child is waiting at the entrance.

Even though I have the face of someone who has already finished one job, they are in the mood of the night before a field trip.

"Let's go quickly!"

No, I just got back.
Even so, when I let them ride on the back, they cling to me happily.
When that happens, I just think, well, that's fine.
That's what a father is like.


***

The seat gets hot like hell in midsummer.
One day, when I tried to let my second daughter ride,
"It's hot!"
she said, and couldn't straddle the bike.
Of course it is.
The black seat and the midsummer sun are a match like bad kids joining forces.
I had no choice but to take off the shirt I was wearing and lay it on the seat.
My second daughter seemed comfortable.
In exchange, I ended up riding in the middle of a midsummer day in a tank top.

The sun was relentless, and every time I waited at a traffic light, I felt like I could hear my skin burning.

The shower I took after getting home felt like it was mixed with a bed of nails.
The hot water stung my sunburned shoulders.

Seeing me in pain, my second daughter was laughing while holding her stomach.
It was a devilish smile like an angel, enough to surprise Masahiko Kondo.
If an adult around here treated me like that, I'd be angry, but you're cute, so I'll make an exception and forgive you.

***

There are incidents in midwinter too.
"I want to become the wind."
There was a day I went out of my way to ride the bike under the cold sky for such a romantic reason.
My eldest son was happy.
I was also a little happy to be on the bike for the first time in a while at first.

But by the time we got home, far from becoming the wind, I had completely lost to the wind.

I lost feeling in my fingertips, my runny nose wouldn't stop, and my teeth chattered when I laughed.

That night, I caught a bad cold.

When you become an adult, romance and physical strength no longer match.

***

There was also a time when the bike stopped working in midsummer.
It was when I was trying to go home from piano class with my eldest daughter on the back.

The engine wouldn't make a sound.

No matter how many times I turned the starter, there was no response.
My eldest daughter looked at me worriedly.
I was worried too.

I couldn't just leave the bike on the road, so we decided to push it home together.

Beside me, drenched in sweat, my eldest daughter also pushed with all her might with her small hands.

Honestly, she wasn't much help as a force.
But it was much easier than pushing it alone.

"Do your best!"
"Just a little more!"
Just having someone by your side saying that makes a person able to try quite hard.

That is probably not a memory of pushing a bike, but a memory of walking while being encouraged.

***

I also can't forget the way home from the park with my eldest son.
His helmet hit my back, tap, tap.
At first, I thought he was playing around.

But it wasn't.
The rhythmic swaying and the wind must have been comfortable.
It seems he was asleep.

With a look of comfort, leaning on my back.

It's dangerous, it's heavy, and no matter how you look at it, it's hard to drive.
Even so, I was probably grinning the whole time that day.
Children only sleep in places where they feel safe.

I think that for my eldest son at that time, the back of the bike and my back were places where he could fall asleep.

That was quite a happy medal for me as a father.

In that way, memories are piling up on my bike.

The voice heard through the helmet.
The small body heat hitting my back while waiting at a traffic light.
The weight of him leaning on me sleepily.
The ice cream we choose at the convenience store.
The busyness of the morning heading to nursery school.
At the time, all of them were just everyday life.

But children always grow up.

My eldest daughter, who used to beg for hugs whenever she felt anxious, no longer begs for hugs.

My second daughter, who wouldn't let go of my hand, has become faster than me before I knew it, and runs off anywhere.

My eldest son, who now says, "Daddy, let's go play quickly!", will also have a day when his plans with friends become more important.

There will surely come a day when a father's bike looks a little uncool.

That's fine.

I think that's what it means to grow up properly.

It's a little lonely, but I'm also proud.

Even so, if I am asked again,
"I want to ride,"
I will probably go get the keys at that moment.

Actually, there are days when I'm tired too.
It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter.
Honestly, a car is overwhelmingly easier.

But a bike is a mysterious vehicle, and if you leave it alone for a while, it gets sulky.

If you leave it without riding, the battery will die and the engine won't start.
So I have to ride it regularly.

I have a feeling that time with family is a bit similar.
If you think, "I can do it anytime," you'll find it passes in the blink of an eye.

The scenery that was taken for granted until last year cannot be seen the next year.
That's why I think I'll let them ride on the back as much as I can while I still can.

Talking about nonsense while waiting at traffic lights, buying ice cream at the convenience store, saying it's hot or cold.

I want to make sure I keep those times running.


The children who ride on the back will stop riding one day.


So while I still can, I'll become the wind as many times as I can.