ghost rider

I almost didn't go to work yesterday. The sun was shining, the temp was 65 degrees and I stopped at a traffic signal and saw the ghost of my youth pedaling furiously across the intersection. Of course we didn't have helmets or knee pads or elbow pads in those days. We didn't even have child-size bicycles. How is this kid ever going to learn about pain if she's not allowed to fall down and scrape the skin off her legs?