Before I learned to ride a bike I spent a good deal of time in or with my little red wagon. My mom used to cart my brother, Joey, and I down to the stream at the end of Hollen Rd. in that tiny tin box with wheels. As I got older I used the wagon to wheel around my collections of dolls, or rocks or whatever else needed hauling at the time. At the age of four that little wagon was an integral part of my daily play experiences.
And then I left it in the driveway- the driveway that we shared with our neighbor.
Just like that my little wagon was gone and it really was my fault. I'm sure my parents used that teachable moment to remind me that even at the age of four I needed to be sure to put things away. The age of four was a helluva long time ago so I can't be sure what was said- I just don't remember.
The only thing I do remember is the new wagon, complete with wooden slats attached, that my neighbor bought me as a replacement.
I don't remember that neighbor's name...but the wagon? Yeah, it was sweet!
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