When it comes to summer memories, time spent with my cousin, just 8 months my junior are some of my best. I looked forward to the weekends when we took the 40 minute drive south and pulled into Grandma and Grandpa’s driveway. A race to the backyard would typically find Grandma and Grandpa nurturing their garden. We’d say “hello” and grab a handful of raspberries and then greet my cousin.
We invented games that somehow we survived. One of our favorites was pushing each other down the grassy, steep hill and measure the distance traveled in the AMF wee wagon. When the wind was subtle we dared the other to stand in the wagon as the other shoved the wagon and its rider down the hill.
We wore tracks in the hill, knocked the wind out of each other and continued even though our buttocks outgrew the tiny “riding” area. On some occasions we ventured to the front where the incline of the street was just as steep and held on tight as the sidewalk cracks tried to chuck us as the other ran at full force trying to beat the best time.
We hobbled in for drinks and Grandpa’s lifesavers and raided the first aid kit depleting it’s stock of adhesive band aids.
Somewhere in Grandpa’s shed, sits that old Wee Wagon, worn and rusted and yet loved for the abuse it withstood as my cousin and I rode it through summer after summer!