Radio Flyer: An American Childhood

As you know, Lachlan turned one several weeks ago. For his birthday, he received many lovely gifts. There was one gift however that travelled a very long way to get to him. This gift was selected by two special people in his life. Special people, who in fact live so far away they haven't even had a chance to meet the little prince yet; but love him just the same. Those special people, his Grandpa Dave and Grandma Rhonda, put special thought into his gift, which was placed in a special box, travelled on a special FedEx flight over the Pacific, went through customs and arrived on our doorstep one week later.

I was excited when the package arrived as I already knew what was inside. Lachlan was sleeping so I had the delivery man place it in the garage in hopes that I could open it and put it together while my little prince was in slumber-land. When I opened the box a big smile came across my face. It was as if I was staring at a small glimpse of the past--my childhood which was long gone. There was red. Pure red. Not maroon or crimson or red-orange---just RED. The red of a Radio Flyer Wagon. What American child didn't know THAT red. The red that was so vibrant that kids a block away knew that you were pulling around a Radio Flyer. The Radio Flyer was a child's best friend. It was at least mine. I loved my little red wagon. How I loved it and abused it, like all good relationships. My wagon had been through the war of my childhood, must have hit every pot hole on that Maple Row, American street that I grew up on and would have turned over from every lousy crack and raised sidewalk in the neighborhood. That wagon had seen it all; lugged dirt, dolls, GI Joes, picnic lunches, jars of insects, pets and of course me. What kid did not try to go cruisin' down their neighbourhood hill in their little red wagon--only to of course topple over, skin their knees and bleed red--pure red, just like the wagon.

As I gazed down into the box I thought about my son. Now it is his turn to know the glories of the Red Wagon. The wagon which is made for 'every boy and every girl.' Of course his wagon is much more modernised than what I had. Radio Flyer has really supped up their models since the 1980's and 90's. His wagon is the Pathfinder model; made out of durable plastic complete with 4 sippy cup holders. Now makers are more into safety...something no one really thought much about when I was a kid. Lachlan's wagon converts into 2 seats with harnesses where he and a friend can sit...of course, while sipping their tea...uh, I mean juice box which so nicely sits in the cup holder.

I took the parts out of the box and very easily put together my son's first Radio Flyer. It was the first time where I couldn't wait for him to wake from his nap; I was eager to share this nostalgia with him. Lachlan did eventually wake. He had a big lunch and then was introduced to his very first Radio Flyer. At first he didn't know what to think. He was a tad bit squirmish when I tried to strap him in the wagon, but as soon as I clicked him in he was happy with his new wheels. He was now at his dog, Maxwell's eye level--that he liked. He could turn his head and see something from every angle, unlike when he is in his pram. We went for his first little ride around the back yard as a test run. A huge smile came across his face--the same smile that I'm sure I once had before my youth and innocence was gone. Around the yard we went; just me, my little son and our dog. Later we went for a walk to the park and Lachlan was literally 'bumpin' up and down in his little red wagon'----oh, he is my darlin'!

Every passerby stops and makes a comment about our lovely wagon. Even the elderly ask if they can take a ride...after all the bus stop is a long journey from our street. I have even found that Radio Flyer sells a UV Protection Canopy to fit the wagon. I have ordered one so our prince can ride in shade and style; a far car from my childhood. Either way, I'm just so happy and thrilled that my son can now live out a bit of an American childhood!