Yesterday I needed a bike in order to ride around my nan's house. The parents had "bought" nan a new mattress, which is to say that they'd bought themselves a new mattress and were "kindly" giving her their old one. I needed to go around nan's to be there when "it was delivered", which, again, was shorthand for the only person we knew with a white van, namely our uncle, who would take the role as the delivery driver.
So I needed to get around her house, which is under a quarter of a mile away. Not a problem, but I needed transportation. Dad brought out a little girl's bike. It looked like a 1:4 scale model of my normal bike, which was at my house. It was the sort of bike that pink handlebar tassels were made for. All I can say is: I'm glad it was dark.
I have been on this earth for 26 years and it was only yesterday that I discovered the term "Shanks' Pony".
"You can either ride that bike," my dad said, "or it's Shanks' pony."