As sisters in Pyote we'll ride in the wagon
And Daddy will pull us around the houses
We'll go on the sidewalk and into the stickers
'Cause in Pyote the grass doesn't grow in our yard!
That song has been running through my head the past several months whenever we go outside with my old wagon. The wagon is almost 31 years old. I got it for my first birthday. Still going strong, even after having been used by my dad to haul engines and transmissions for several years. The license plate on the back is from one of his old trucks. It's been on the wagon about as long as I can remember. My parents brought the wagon with them when they came to visit a while back, and the girls have loved it since!
Elizabeth decided to take her turn pulling the wagon to and from the playground the other day. She hit a patch of stickers too thick for her sandals, but didn't want to admit defeat either. She resisted being put into the wagon, and in the process discovered wagon surfing, which she insisted on doing on the way home.