(Family Business} "Slip over mom, I drive."

Winterdom in Hamburg. The family is standing in front of the bumper car. Just the little one has just turned a couple of laps on the motorcycle in a baby scooter - and looked clearly much too big between the 4- and 5-year-olds. Hm. Maybe this is the perfect moment to introduce my son to the mysterious worlds of the adult scooter? In the past things used to mean quite funny car driver . I still remember faintly that at the age of 13 and 14, I also appreciated the very special magic of this ride - including up and down charts that sounded full of pipes over the road. The kid is almost 8. So why not.

"Do we want to do a round?" I ask the child. He is immediately on fire and jumps up and down like a ball. A few minutes later we turn elegantly over the area: Mom behind the wheel, son next to it. By mutual agreement our heads nod with 130 BPM to the beat of any American singer. Ha, how cool.

"Mama," the child suddenly says, "we have to get the girls there". How sweet, I think and let my eyes rest pleasantly on the scooter moving in front of us: two preppy pink-clad female purses in his old age are riding well with pompoms on their crocheted hats and taking care of their rounds. The thing with the bumper car he has so quickly intuitively captured, I am amused secretly. "They are small," I inform my son officially. "You can not hold on tight to that." I mean that over there. " He points his chin to the side. I see two almost 13-year-old girls passing by, who seem to be performing their kohl for the first time and a bit too much lip gloss today. Extremely tight jeans, pale pointed little faces and this somewhat awkward makeup MakeUp. Now it's my turn: "HÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ!" At this moment the ride is over and the scooters stop.

I'm driving! ", My baby says to me, takes off his seatbelt in a flash and makes challenging arm movements. I slip into the passenger seat, amazed, while one of the friendly fellow travelers expertly adjusts the child's seatbelt on the driver's seat. A chip lands in the slot and we race into a new chapter of our mother-son relationship.

"We have to catch them!" The child enthusiastically asks, curling behind the adored one. And here I am. In the passenger seat next to my son on the hunt for older girls. Thud! He has reached his goal and chuckles overjoyed. The two girls, slipped by the impact, smile mildly. You think he is cute. Oh dear.

I'm just beginning to philosophize: Will this always be the case from now on? And how long will I probably sit next to it. Is that his wife's taste? Oh God! What will we do if he brings home his first hand-hold girlfriend soon (how soon ?!)! He will surely choose one with spirit and character? We'll get that with the lip gloss together ... RUMMMMMS !!! I am almost torn from the seat by a murderous impact. My son has - the girl looking over his shoulder and continue straight ahead - our scooter full shot head-on set against a wall. Good gracious. That with the mind does not seem to be particularly necessary. For the first.

We'll do another four rounds. When we get out of the car at some point and he is in ecstasy at the sight of a bag of lard cake, I think that maybe we still have some time for common Scooterfahrten.