My Shrink, the Bike

By the time I was nine years old I had been yearning for a two-wheeled bike for two years and three months but there were none to be found—not in stores, not in newspaper ads. The bike my parents and I finally found was second-hand and three sizes too big, just because FDR decided making war materiél was more important than manufacturing bikes for little girls too impatient to wait for WWII to be over.

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