(Third in a series of stories about every bike I've ever owned.)
One summer while home from college, my Mom and Dad asked me if there was anything they could've done differently when I was growing up. I asked why they gave both me and my sister bikes for my 13th birthday.
The next day I awoke to a birthday cake breakfast and a new pink step-through bicycle with a pink bow on the handlebars. Please ignore the extremely bad hair-do in the photo and just look at the bike.
This sweet little ride ended up getting stolen from outside the bar where I worked junior year at college. Boy did I cry over that little bit of thievery.
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