Here's a picture of my dad and my great Uncle Boots. He's a World War II veteran and just so much fun to be around, at least he was when I was a child. I don't think I've seen him since I was around 9 years old.
The last time I saw him he stayed with us for a few days. He announced one day that he wanted to get a bicycle so off we went to the bike shop. When we walked in I was facinated by all of the bicycles. It was then that I saw it....a metallic blue bicycle with a flower basket, banana basket and high handle bars. It was the type of bicycle that every girl wanted for Christmas back in the seventies. I jumped on and off of it many times and said, "Hey Mom, Uncle Boots...This is the bike I want. It's just perfect for me."
"Now Wendy, we're here for Uncle Boots to buy a bicycle, we're not here for you,"my mom said.
"Oh, okay." Bummer! I thought. We left the bike shop without a bike. Uncle Boots didn't find one that day that suited him. He had a big smile on his face as though he were up to something. I remember his laugh and that when he smiled he had dimples.
That Christmas under the tree Santa had brought me that bike that I wanted. I had it under special authority that Uncle Boots had told Santa just what I liked. My mom said that he really enjoyed being a part of the caper. Apparently the bike shop called once to see if he wanted the bike he was looking at that day! Salespeople...they just don't get it!
It was the last time I ever saw him before my parents split and we moved away, but what a memory I have.
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