The dumb of joy

A man rides by me on a bicycle. As he passes I see there is a little boy of about four or five standing straight up on a small platform right behind the man, holding onto Dad’s big body and grinning. Neither of them wear helmets. The kid is ecstatic, but the old protective father instinct in me thinks what the hell is that man doing? If he turns too hard or brakes suddenly, his son will fly off into ten kinds of disaster. But the kid is so obviously happy to be there. But it’s so dangerous. B...