It has taken 20 months, but at long last The B has figured it out . . . .
His bike, that is.
Bought for his third birthday, the machine in question has been confined to the garage - save the occasional, unsuccessful attempt to master it - ever since its purchase.
You might recall the breakdown in communication between The B's brain and legs that has rendered him unable to pedal.
That all changed - for some inexplicable reason - a little earlier this afternoon.
The breakthrough came in Halfords (not a preferred retailer, it must be said, but we needed a lock for The B&G's scooters ahead of our forthcoming trip to Center Parcs).
During our time in store, The G - ignoring all the customer guidelines - decided to test out a rather splendid pink bike, pedalling it sans-problem (her brain and legs have a decent relationship) all around the shop.
She reached some surprising speeds on the smooth, polished floor and, witnessing this, The B declared himself interested in having a crack at the dark art of pedalling for the first time since September 2010. The rest is history.
Upon our arrival home, The B's long-neglected bike was retrieved from the garage's darkest corner and ridden like never before - not saying a lot, admittedly, but still . . . .
One problem solved, then, but another has arisen as a direct result.
It's The G. She is more desperate than ever to acquire her own bike - the pink one from Halfords, of course . . . .