New Issue of Pro Tips: It's No Scooty-Puff Jr.



I remember my first travel accessory. I was 10. She was at least 20, painted red, and made awful screeching noises when I pedaled her around. She only had three wheels, but I was okay with that, and so what if my brother had taken her around town countless times before I got to her. She was finally mine, and nobody could take her away. Until, at least, a rivet popped out of her main support bar and she basically exploded into a tiny mess of tricycle parts, leaving me sprawled in the middle of my street all scraped up and trying not to cry. Still, she was my first, and you never forget your first.

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