I was seven years old, and the time had come to graduate from training wheels to a two-wheeler. My dad prepped my new green and pink bicycle, and we set off to practice. My dad held the seat from behind as I tried to master the art of balance, turning, and stopping. After an afternoon of repeated attempts, I proved frustrated and unsuccessful. When it was time to pack it in for the day, my dad said "sleep on it." He told me to dream about riding that two-wheeler and to think about it as I slept. I thought he was crazy. But apparently he knew what he was talking about. The next day when we went out for round two of practice, I succeeded only after a short while. I cannot remember if I actually had a dream about riding the bike, but I do remember thinking about it as I drifted off to sleep.