A Bike Named Potato Milk

Yes, you read that right.

On a sunny Saturday morning, a few weeks ago, while watching my three kids ride their push bikes, my 3 year old son and I had this interesting exchange…

“Dad, this is Potato Milk,” he said with a big smile.

“Huh? Whose Potato Milk?”

“My bike, Daddy. His name is Potato Milk.”

“You named your bike Potato Milk, son?”

“Yep, that’s his name. He flew in from New York City for my birthday,” he said proudly.

“Well, that was awfully nice of him.”

“It sure was,” he said. “He’s my best friend.”

I don’t remember much about the bike I had as a kid, but I sure hope he was as cool as Potato Milk.

I mean, who flies in from across the country for a birthday party?

Now, that’s a pal.

Long live Potato Milk.