it all came together...

There was a very big, very heavy box sitting on the front stoop weeks ago. Maybe in late April or early May. I'd been informed to expect a 'surprise' that would come to the house, 'some assembly required'. So I barely managed to get it in the door, and left it sitting in the front hallway, out of the traffic pattern, awaiting the party who would provide the assembly. It was sort of smelly, kind of like when you go to get your oil changed, and have to sit in the waiting room of the tire store for half an hour. Not surprising: the box contained a big wooden Radio Flyer wagon.

A gift for Mother's Day from the girl who enjoyed riding in the wagon we had when she was a little bitty thing. Until we had a yard sale, after everyone had outgrown the wagon, and I found myself persuaded to sell the wagon. It actually took some persuading, as I had not intended to part with it, but the guy who came along looking  for rummage treasures hung around and talked about that wagon so long, I somehow became willing to part with it for cash. I suspect it was originally from Santa, something that we bought for Christmas when we had people so small two would easily fit in the wooden wagon with the red slat side-bodies.

Apparently they still make them in just as durable a fashion, as they did when the company was founded back in 1917 by an Italian immigrant living in Chicago. It looks like it could handle several generations of little people Plus there are all manner of accessories I can get to enhance the experience, from a canopy to cushions, a bright red clip on umbrella to saddlebags to hold all my accoutrements. And all manner of things we never even dreamed we needed made by Radio Flyer: scooters, tricycles, little peddle cars, peddle tractors, strollers, three wheelers to peddle, etc.

F. thought I needed it as she was convinced I am still grieving over having sold the one we had twenty years ago. I think I have pretty much gotten over it, but I am sure I can find some stuff to haul around in the new one. They put it together yesterday when they were here for lunch on Father's Day.

I did not so much think I needed a replacement, but did think about some cheap fun I had in a little metal version of the red wagon when I was a kid. The neighbors had a pretty steep driveway, and kids being kids, we must have dragged that wagon up the hill a gazillion times, piled in and coasted (at the speed of light, surely!) with the wind blowing in our faces. Down the drive way, around the curve, with very poor driving skills (what can you expect when driving a little red metal wagon by the pull handle), until we all dumped out in the sand. Laughing uproariously, ready to wipe the blood off our knees and elbows and give it another go.

Well worth the price of admission. Can't you just picture a pile of dirty, sticky, sweaty kids stacked up in a little rusty wagon, with legs hanging over the sides, rolling down the driveway and crashing, tumbling out into the soft sand, hilariously giggling at the mishap, ready to do it all over again?

It makes me think about