Is there anything more American, besides apple pie and internet porn, than a dad buying his son his first bike?

For months Gabriel had been asking for a BMX bike (what I would’ve called a dirt bike back in my day – the preferred brands being Mongoose, Diamond Back, and, most coveted of all, Red Line).

A few weeks earlier I had checked out the small bike shop up the block from us.  They had all kinds of BMX bikes, but they were all in the $300 – $500 range.  And being a premature curmudgeon, this struck me as outrageous.  Plus I had indulged some of Gabriel’s fleeting passions in the past – the electric guitar, saxophone and two dead rainbow fish come to mind.

I’m not saying he killed the fish when he got bored with them, but he really could’ve stuck with the musical instruments a bit longer.

But he’s an active, outdoorsy kid, so a bike made total sense.  Off to Target I went.  Not only did they have BMX bikes, they had a Schwinn BMX!!  My first bike wasn’t a Mongoose, Diamond Back, or Red Line.  No, it was a red Schwinn Stingray with sparkly white banana seat and goofy bars.

I was almost tearing up.   History was about to repeat itself.  Plus it only cost a hundred bucks.  I bought a giant red bow to put on it, and hid it in the garage until Christmas.

Over the next few weeks I turned in an Academy Award performance not letting on to Gabriel that he would be getting a bike.  My poker face was perfect.  Two days before Christmas he confided to his older brother that he didn’t think he was going to get the BMX bike, but that this was okay with him.

Christmas morning I got up extra early to make sure I would beat Gabriel to the living room.  I wanted to film him when he first saw the bike.  He walked in and saw the red and white Schwinn.  He was happy, certainly, but not ecstatic, which just isn’t like him.  Gabriel eats life, and is wildly enthusiastic about just about anything.  But he seemed happy enough.

He rode the bike around all winter and seemed to enjoy it, but lately, in the last month or so, he would often come home in tears after riding around with his little pack of friends.  Turns out they were teasing him mercilessly, telling him his bike was a crappy Schwinn from Target, and wasn’t even a true BMX bike at all.

That was it.  I was pissed.  At Gabriel.  I thought this showed weakness of character.  I distinctly remember the description on the little tag at Target containing those three letters: B.  M.  X.  Since then I’ve wasted my time on-line schooling myself on gyros, foot pegs and seat styles, but just the same, even if it isn’t exactly a textbook BMX, it is a perfectly fine bicycle.  Hey, at his age I wished I had a Redline, but I didn’t get one, and I’m pretty sure I’m better for it.  I had to own my Schwinn – emotionally – and figure out how to make it a source of, if not pride, than at least an object lesson in how not to let other kids control your emotions.

That’s what got me.  I explained to Gabriel there will always be kids who will find some reason to tease you – your haircut, the brand of shoes you wear, a little chubbiness – whatever, and that if you let them get to you, you lose.

And if they know you’re a sensitive kid, they will circle and attack like the heartless little sharks they are.  Don’t give them fresh blood.  You will never be able to buy your way out of your problems.  He seemed to understand.

By this time my wife was on his side, convinced that we had messed up.  It wasn’t about price, she said, it was about him wanting a BMX bike, and us getting him the wrong thing.  She was right, but still I was torn.  I secretly wished we were poor, like my parents, so that there wouldn’t have even been the option to get him a nicer BMX bike from the store up the block.

But we are more or less middle class, and seeing how much he actually loves to bike, getting him a new one would not be a boondoggle like the sax or guitar (thank God my older kid is a hardcore metalhead and is playing that guitar – it’s not a complete waste).

But I wasn’t quite ready to give in.

Gabriel still came home in tears.  And I still tried to pep talk him out of it.

Gabriel’s birthday is in two weeks, June 2.  Obviously I know what he wants.  Even though part of me still wants him to thicken his skin against the other kids, part of me admits to myself I probably did buy the wrong bike, and there was this decent dirt bike on sale up the block for $229.

I knew then that I’d be getting him a new BMX bike as an early birthday present.

So we came home one day after his soccer game and bought the bike.  He hasn’t left it alone since.  I warned him about theft, and so he doesn’t even leave it in the garage.  He parks it in the living room.  He loves it, absolutely loves it.

Did I do the right thing?  From a parenting textbook standpoint, I don’t know.  Did I miss an opportunity to help build his character?  Maybe.  Hopefully not.  Hopefully all my stern speeches and (almost) waiting until his birthday made some impact.  I made the best decision I could at the time I made it.

I’m happy about the decision, but there’s a bittersweet tinge, too.  He loves that bike, and rides it every day, that’s not the issue.  I just wish that was the bike he came down and saw on Christmas morning.  He would’ve been out of his mind with joy.  Fatherhood passes quickly, and their childhood even more quickly.  Blink and you miss it.  Some things happen only once.    Like the first time you walk into the living room on Christmas morning to find your dad has bought you the bike of your dreams.