When I was 7 or 8 years old, I decided I wanted to put a card in my spokes, like the older kids up the street. But, not just any card would do. It had to be the Ace of Spades.
So, I went in the house, found the playing cards, and pulled the Death Card out. A couple of seconds with a clothespin later, and I was in business.
I went up to the Dead End, and clickety-clacked my way around for awhile. All of the other kids admired my choice of card and, for once, I was the cool one. But, pretty soon, the card got floppy, and wouldn't buzz against the spokes, no matter how I positioned it. So, I tossed it in the culvert and forgot about it.
A few days later, my daddy was sitting at the table, playing Solitaire. Game after game went by, without a win. Eventually, he counted the cards and found there was only 51.
"Well, no wonder I can't win," he said, slamming the cards down.
I was petrified that he was going to turn to me and ask why I had stolen the Ace of Spades out of the deck. But, he just went and got a new, unopened, deck and continued playing.
I never told him that I had taken the card. But, I did act grateful when he gave me the deck of 51 cards...in case I wanted to try putting a card in my bike spokes.