And on that bike there was her dad, Zed-O-E-O-E


This is Zoe’s dad. His name is Dave.

Hi Dave!

He races motorcycles, which is my euphemism for Death Wish.


He didn’t race motorcycles when we were married.

Because apparently back then, I was his euphemism for Death Wish.

But that’s all in the past and I can barely recall it in excruciatingly vivid detail and now, Dave races motorcycles up in Canada in the summer.

Zoe goes with him because she adores her dad and she likes it when Canadians call her Zed-O-E, which is her name spelled in French.

And apparently after the races, there’s something called Zed’s Pit Row Chicken & Ribs which entails Zed-O-E and Dave and a smoker and enough food to feed a small province.


It has a nice sound to it, don’t you think?


Back here at home, I just call her plain old Zoe, but sometimes, when she has succeeded in pushing every single one of my buttons, it comes out sounding more like HEY, YOU THERE, YEAH, I’M TALKING TO YOU, LITTLE MISS BUTTHEAD.

Sometimes Helena calls her Snotty Little Hippy Hillbilly, but only when Zoe calls her a Little Box Eating Hobo.

It’s weird here.

No wonder Zoe likes going to Canada so much.


Zoe works the pit crew for her dad. Yes, the same daughter who views helping around our house as a form of indentured servitude, the one who goes into anaphylaxic shock when she gets near dishwater or dust, the one who has taken a constitutional stand against closets and the hangers that go in them, helps out in the pit without coercion. She’s in charge of placing the bike properly on its stand and putting warmers on the tires or taking them off, as the case may be.

They way I hear tell it, she actually cleans things and puts them back where they belong.

I know!

Are you still there? I can barely see you for the waves of irony washing over me right now.

Why she can’t manage to keep a simple pair of earrings together so that both pieces can enjoy a ride through the rinse and spin cycle of our washing machine at the same time is beyond me.

Maybe if I paved our upstairs and installed bleachers and decked myself out in motocross gear and rode a Kawasaki up and down our banister, Zoe would get inspired to clean up the clothes that are currently growing roots on her bedroom floor?

Maybe not.


Dave says that he needs to improve his form. Apparently, he’s supposed to lean even further and drag his elbow, not his knee.

I’d rather drag my elbows too. Maybe then they wouldn’t be so freakishly pointy. But in all honestly, I’d probably be dragging my face. And leaving my epidermis and dermis and subcutaneous fat all over the track. Not to mention my innards and self-respect

Good thing I don’t race motorcycles.

I just want to know why he doesn’t fall over?

I’d ask Nate but then he’d be all centrifugal force this and centrifugal force that and then I’d have to get out my flow charts and subtitles and brush up on my Nate-Speak and I just don’t have the energy to holler OH MY GOD, MAKE IT STOP, SHAKE A JAR OF PENNIES AT IT all night.

I’m just going to say that he doesn’t fall over because.

Sometimes, all you need is a because. This is something I have to constantly drill into Helena’s head, especially when she asks me why she’s not allowed to date until she’s 37.

I’m so glad Nate doesn’t race motorcycles, in Canada or anywhere else.

However, he does race his Durango on his way to work. Or to dinner. Or to Lowes. Or to anywhere that isn’t here. I’d lean over and ask Mr. Jeff Gordon Wannabe what in the name of God he thinks he’s doing, but the G-force prevents me from breathing, let alone complaining.

I live in fear that one day, my subcutaneous fat is going to be all over I490.

I’d miss my subcutaneous fat.

I like saying subcutaneous.

Sub – cuuuuuuuuuuuuuu – TAYYYYY – nee – us.

It’s a happy word for something gross, don’t you think? Kind of like colonic.

I’d say that I when married Nate, I married my very own Death Wish, but seeing as how I’m already swimming in irony, I see no reason to actually drown in it.

If you asked Dave, he wouldn’t call it irony. He’d call it poetic justice.

So we just aren’t going to ask Dave.



Zoe told me recently that someday, she would like to ride a motorcycle just like her dad.

It it were anyone else whose belly button I’m not directly responsible for, I’d say Hey, it’s your life,  go for it.

But because it is Zoe and I am solely responsible for that innie, I saved my breath and simply had a stroke.

Zoe can break a bone merely by waking up. She has trouble enough keeping her skeleton intact when riding a simple bike that is powered by her own two feet. Mix torque and turbo and horsepower into the equation and I’m going to have to add “pick out a casket” onto my to-do list for her sixteenth birthday party and I’ve already got my hands full figuring out how to bribe the Department of Motor Vehicles to ensure Zoe doesn’t get her license until she’s 40. I simply don’t need the extra hassle.

Thankfully Dave and I see eye to eye on this issue which is a good thing because if I declare NO MOTORCYCLES EVER, it’s as if I’m speaking Braille but if Dave says it, it’s pretty much because he’s a messenger of God.

Now I just have to make sure that God tells Dave that even the slightest taste of drugs, sex or alcohol can cause your boobs to swell to twice their size and migrate to your back. Permanently.


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31 thoughts on “And on that bike there was her dad, Zed-O-E-O-E”

  1. Avatar

    Hehehe, that last visual is going to stick with me for a while. I drove a motorcycle for 8 years as my only form of transportation–but mine was street-legal, and not dependant on bodily joint pads to get around the corners. I do miss the bike, though–but now that I’ve got a child, it really has made me rethink the whole death wish thing I have on my own… =)

  2. Avatar

    That was funny. I think it’s neat that Zed O E gets to travel with her dad to Canada and eat Canadian Bacon. Haha hahahahahaha! I crack me up. Now as far as being a motorcycle racer, quick, lock her up until she’s changes her mind!

  3. Avatar

    My dad had a passion for motorcycles in his younger years (20s and 30s) and my mom was always horrified, outraged and freaked out by that.

    He occasionally would borrow a friend’s motorcycle and go for a spin in the neighborhood. He never owned or raced one, thank Heavens.

    But Mom could never control how fast he drove the tractor through the fields on the farm….. mwah ha ha ha ha!

    Just grabbed your button – love it! 😀

  4. Avatar

    My dad is a biker at the age of 58. I do not relax until I know he is safe at home.

    I like saying subcutaneous too. And “doily”.

  5. Avatar

    Oh my! We Canadians can certainly make an impression, eh? You crack me up, as always. Thanks for the good morning giggle.

    Two things: I tagged you on my linar blog: – just cuz

    And, thanks for the comment on my L2L blog, I know Buffalo is only an hour away. And, now I’m only an hour away from Buffalo. So, cross the border and come for a visit 🙂

  6. Avatar

    I had a heart attack just LOOKING at those pictures. That does NOT look fun to me. It looks terrifying.

    Thank god I wasn’t looking at this while my son was around or he would have discovered his new vocation in life. I think I’ll go tie some pillows around him and secure him in a packing bubble lined room now.

    Ah yi yi. Too much scary for me!

  7. Avatar

    Yes. I’m with you… how do they not fall over?! I used to date a guy who raced motorcycles and occasionally I’d ride on the back of one of his bikes with him. He’d get all agitated because I’d refuse to lean into the corners… we didn’t last long 🙂

  8. Avatar

    LOL! andy I’ve got to say he does look kind-a hot in those photos don’t ya think? Yeah..seems the more over 40 I get the more I notice hotness!

    My best friend (a guy named Ray) raced. Not motorcycles though, he raced both cars and go-carts. It was wild except when he raced illegally on the street when I was with him! As for my dh? Yep. He races too. Just like Nate in MY Durango and in his little Nissan Pick-up! To work, to the store etc…Oi!!

    LOL! Gotta love Zoed-OE-OE!! LOL! I have a feeling I’m mispronouncing it though 😀

    btw–LOVE the page you did!! sigh…awesome as usual girl! B.L.O.G.S.T.O.R.E !!!! oh and buzz me sometime will ya?!

  9. Avatar

    I have your “she won’t listen to me but she thinks he’s God” scenario in reverse. My stepson won’t listen to anything his mother tells him (which is a good thing, because she’s a raving lunatic) but he thinks everything I say is Gospel. God I love karma. In your case, um, sorry.

  10. Avatar

    my husband, after 30 some odd years of never having been on a bike before in is life, is wanting to try it out. Eep.

    Stopping by from SiTS to say hello, and have a good one.

  11. Avatar

    You wouldn’t catch me on one. It is good that her and her dad have something that really connects the two of them for my husband and son it is paintball. Now you tell me why in the world anyone wants to go purposely get a bruise 🙂 lOl

  12. Avatar

    So funny…and just realised we spell in zed-o-e here too!

    I plan to forward this to my dh, but need him to increase his pain meds first. He is 3 days post-op, and laughing still hurts, as does putting on his socks!

  13. Avatar

    You are going to get me in trouble at work if you don’t knock it off.

    How in the HECK am I supposed to be quiet when you’re all like “yeah, punk, them boobs’ll be sproutin’ out all hunchback-like! How you like THAT?!?”

    Good gracious, I might die.

  14. Avatar

    ROFL! At least Dave seems to know what he’s doing. My husband decided to have a midlife crisis a few years back and bought himself a motorcycle which he just loved to go flying down country roads on. I thought for sure it would be the death of him and after a friend had a horrible motorcycle accident I think my husband finally realized this as well and he agreed to sell his bike (in exchange for a giant big screen tv of course!).

  15. Avatar

    What is it with men and motorcycles???? Do they ride them to punish us?? Oh Dear God, now your daughter wants to ride one? Did you sleep at all since this?

    I’m all for living and let-living as well, but when it comes to motorcycles I know too many people who have died. Just say NO to the cycle. Poke out the tire with a screwdriver if you have to. Every day. They may say “I’m a good driver”. But when you’re on a cycle you’re so vulnerable to the hordes of people who are Godawful drivers. Maybe if it’s just on dirt on a bike that doesn’t go over 5 mph. MAYBE.

    You poor thing. There, there.

  16. Avatar

    Oh how I HATE motorcycles…my dad was in an accident with his back in 2003 and almost bled to death. Thanks to the guy who used his belt as a tourniquet! He almost lost his leg and was in a brace for a long time before getting a new knee then had to go through therapy, etc. etc. He is NOT getting a motorcycle again and neither is my DH. He knows I’ll kill him before IT does.

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    So glad that my dh does not ride motorcycles. Boys and their toys, huh? Oh, and just so you know. We would spell Zoe Zed-E-O over here in English speaking Canada as well. The whole zed thing makes ir really hard to sing the abc song and still have it rhyme at the end (it doesn’t) so we’ve even had to create a new abc song! (or at least my school district did!!!)


  18. Avatar

    omg, I found your blog via your link at 2peas… but this ain’t no girly scrappin’ blog. You’re fricken hilarious. I’m going to pass your blog link along to some non-scrappin’ friends who will enjoy your sharp wit (and totally agree with you on the motorcycle issue too!).

    Thanks for making me smile. 🙂

  19. Avatar

    It’s funny how Zoe is totally fine with helping with her dad’s motorcycling, but not with cleaning the house. Maybe you should deck yourself out in motocross gear to get her to clean up! Alternatively, you could bribe her with her own motocross gear to get her to clean up, though that might backfire. Anyway, thanks for sharing!

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