We went to dinner with Yaya and Baba last night at an old favorite hole in the wall. After dinner you were saying good-bye to everyone in the place as you walked to the exit with me following behind. You headed right out the front door and onto the sidewalk. I had just moved to close the gap between us and make sure I could grab you if you decided to head right out into the street when suddenly a cyclist coming unseen from our left yelped and hit his brakes. He was in his 50's. He'd been riding on the sidewalk because it's a very busy street with no bike lane. Although he had slowed down as a precaution, he just wasn't ready -- or quick enough -- to handle your surprise entry onto his scene. He braked hard and swerved, unable to stop in time before falling sideways over you, knocking you to the ground and pinning you, briefly, under his bike.
Mind you, this happened just inches in front of me as I stood maybe two feet behind you at the threshold, my field of vision still limited by the door frame.
I lifted the bike, which was unfortunately still securely attached to the rider, as quickly as I could and pulled you up off the ground. You were traumatized, but I could tell right away that you weren't badly hurt. You sustained a cut on your lip, your nose was bleeding a little, and you scraped your head near the temple.
I turned to see the rider, who was still on the ground straddling the bike, stuck in his pedal clips, and asked if he was all right. In a shaky, winded voice he hollered "Never mind me! Is he okay? What about his head? Check the side of his head!"
It took him a long time to get off the ground, and longer still to get himself and his bike back in order.
Back inside, we got you some ice and moist napkins. The lip bled plentifully and you howled for a while. I was glad this hadn't happened while we were on vacation because you needed some mommy love to finally calm down.
Dad
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