I wasn't able to hear this conversation in its entirety due to the obnoxiously loud rumbling of the 2 wheeled vehicle my 22 month old child is perched upon with perfect balance and admiration...but I think it went something like this.
You see baby, this is a motorcycle. It is a Harley-Davidson motorcycle to be exact. That extremely ferocious vibration you are feeling is unique to a Harley-Davidson and cannot be replicated by any other feeble attempt by any other motorcycle manufacturer.
You see baby, there are no other motorcycles besides a Harley. Repeat after me, "Harley, Harley." If you see a motorcycle and it doesn't say, "Harley," well, it ain't a motorcycle baby.
Your mama didn't like motorcycles all that much before she met me. She thought they were dangerous, wreckless, and for men going through mid-life crises...but after she took a few road trips with me and got some air in her hair and a little windburn, she was hooked. And you will be too, baby. We will take road trips just the two of us. We will leave mama behind to play on her computer.
Never let anybody tell you that riding motorcycles is bad. Loving motorcycles doesn't make you biker trash. Just promise me that the only man you will ever ride with is me, your daddy. And always remember to hang on real tight. And remember, the only thing I love more than riding motorcycles...
is you.
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