We both built your scooter of white and of red,
Then laughed as you span all three wheels;
In a helmet I carefully nestled your head,
I smiled at your chuckles and squeals.
You stepped to the plate, and said ‘can you help’,
With wide eyes so brimful of fear,
I lovingly thought you’re still just a whelp;
Then carefully taught you to steer.
Though whelp you are not for you learned what to do,
Within minutes you travelled afar;
Before my anxious eyes you visibly grew,
Then I pictured you driving a car.
My heart pounded with pride and with fear.