So I’m six, and my single dad loves to go running. I do not love to go running. My idea of a wonderful time involves a book and a comfortable chair, not going outside and deliberately getting out of breath while being too hot. But I’m six, so my dad can’t leave me at home while he runs in weekend races. He has to be inventive.
And it’s 1978, he is not a handyperson, he has no woodworking experience whatsoever, the internet does not exist and there are no books at the library called How To Build A Rickshaw And Bring Your Kid On The Race So No One Calls Child Protective Services. But he is extremely smart. So he sits down and designs the rickshaw himself. Two bicycle wheels, a wooden box, and a set of pipes he can hold while he runs. And then he goes to the hardware store and buys all the supplies (including a hammer) and makes the rickshaw.
Citysonnet’s photo challenge was “tranquil”, and that’s what I think of when I look at this photo. My dad is working twice as hard as everyone else in the race, he’s out of breath and sweaty, but me? I’m six years old, sitting in the back of that rickshaw like very tiny queen.
Reading a book, in a comfortable chair.