I ran behind him holding the seat for four straight evenings. Sweaty, hunched over, jogging up and down the lane. On the fifth evening, I just let go and didn't say anything.
He rode a good twenty feet before he realized no one was holding on. Turned around with this huge triumphant grin.
He tells his friends now that he "just knew how to balance." I've never corrected it once. Some victories are better left his.