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I have fond wagon memories of my young Grandchildren riding in a wagon being pulled by me their Grandpa. They giggle and played together and eventually fall asleep with happy smiles.
"We adopted my little brother when I was 8 and he was four months old. From the very beginning, he loved for me to prop him up with blankets and pillows and take him for a ride in our Radio Flyer little red wagon. That wagon truly was an integral part of our play and was used daily unless the weather was bad. Pulling him around soon turned to figuring out creative ways to tow him as soon as he could sit up and hold on. I devised a genius system involving my bicycle, a rope, the wagon, and a 1/2 mile gravel driveway. We flew together with the wind in our hair up and down that driveway until I turned a corner a little too sharply and then I was banned from making alterations to the wagon handle for the rest of our lives (if he were to make it that long with the rest of my creative shenanigans). Luckily, I didn't accidentally scar him for life. Fast forward to 22 years later and we are sitting on the porch laughing and watching my three nieces who are 5, 7, and 8 getting a running start like they are bobsledding, throwing themselves into the wagon at the last possible moment of top speed, holding the handle back, and hanging on for dear life as they race down a hill in the now squeaky and slightly rusty little red Radio Flyer wagon that we loved so dearly. They were bruised and there were a few scrapes, but they loved it so much they just kept pushing the wagon back up the hill and doing it over and over again. Did we stop them?... nope. We sat on the porch and reminisced about all of our childhood escapades with that very same little red wagon and could almost feel the wind in our hair again as we flew together down that gravel driveway years ago. That little red Radio Flyer wagon still lives at Gramma and Papa's house 30 years later and my four little girls create their own memories with it every time they visit. "