I remember having my first real bicycle when I was little. My brothers all had the same one, and one day I was to travel to Atlanta with my best-friend and some of our baseball team to see the Atlanta Braves. They arrived at my house while I was riding my bike in the yard. I jumped off and didn't put my bike up. My other brother that didn't go to Atlanta, did the same later that day. My mother wasn't wise enough to check behind her children, so when I got back both bicycles were gone. Some awful person or people had taken them.