Once last year we were babysitting for two of our goddaughters. They came to our house after school, did their homework, we served them dinner, and so on. (One girl was 8 at the time, the other 12.)
On the way out to the car to take them back to their house, they were all goggle-eyed over the bikes parked in our garage.
Avery asked us, "Are they really loud?"
Next thing you know, Mike and I are each in the saddle, with a goddaughter apiece on the pillion seats holding our waists. The motors are fired up, going VROOM, VROOOOM!
. Never put the bikes in gear, but the girls were shrieking with delight.
We felt like the coolest godparents ever.