My son can ride his bike without training wheels.

There. I said it. And while it's probably no big deal to the other 3 billion people of the world who can already perform this trick, it's a HUGE deal for those of us who have to live with Boy Wonder now.

Sure, there are the normal accolades that come with riding a bike and navigating every empty parking lot, parcel of grass or park in Butler County. But there is much more to it than this. There is finally freedom: the freedom to put on his helmet, gingerly place his sandal on the right pedal and zip away into the great unknown.

He's no longer inhibited by the invisible boundaries his mother and I placed in front of him that existed previously. Instead, there are fields to see, sunsets to ride into and rain clouds threatening from behind.

But he's got his bike, which can help him explore these newfound challenges and adventures.

I want to go with him on these rides sometimes. But I know that as a father I can't. I shouldn't go, in fact. Part of riding his bike is to get away from me, and any other adults, for a short time. It's a time to explore, scrape a knee or elbow and make decisions that will have an impact on him when there is no one there to help him.

It can be scary.

But that's where faith comes into play. The faith that, yes, his family has had an impact on him and he knows the difference between right and wrong, good and bad. The faith to know that he is aware of the fact there is always a place he can call his home, and no matter what he does on his bike, we're proud of him.

The irony, of course, is that he learned to go without training wheels a couple of weeks before the Fourth of July, which embodies the total freedom I'm talking about.

And it's also not surprising that my mom taught my son how to ride his bike. She taught me how to ride my bike before wearing a helmet was cool, and now, she's taught her grandson how to ride his bike in order to find freedom. Somehow, she transitioned well enough to make wearing a helmet cool. It must be a grandparent thing.

Some would argue that it's a parent's job to teach their children how to ride their bike without training wheels, not a grandparent. To some extent, I can understand those sentiments. But I would also argue that a parent's job is to ensure their children are surrounded by folks that 'get it.' Folks who know how to gently nudge kids out of the nest when we parents fight desperately to keep them sheltered from the real world.

As parents, my wife and I have far surpassed that goal. Our children are blessed with six loving grandparents that are truly family — not just in name, but in actions.

So as I sit and watch my son pedal his blue bike across the driveway, I can't help but wonder how I will deal with the next moving vehicle, a yellow truck that sits in my garage. He's already marked it as his, and no one else in the family wants it.

Where will that truck take him, and can I go with him?

Enjoy the freedom you've been blessed with this week, and if you get a chance, help a kid learn how to ride a bike this summer. Who knows where they'll go.

Christian Ola, a community columnist for the Butler Eagle, resides in Mars with his wife, son and daughter and can be reached at christianolac@aol.com.