It’s 5:30 PM and dark out, but the driveway is alive with playing. Our next door neighbors (adopted one week ago) are bundled up with hats and coats on, Kyle and Owen are wearing their multi-colored rain boots (it’s not raining) and their dark gray fleeces and the floodlights are off; nobody can see much of anything.
I turn on the lights to illuminate the situation. Nate is pulling K, O and Ambika up the driveway in the wagon with all three riders laughing hysterically while Nate struggles with his load. They are clearly enjoying themselves despite the language barrier (Nate and Ambika don’t speak English and K&O are 2 1/2 year old twins) and are looking forward to the ride down hill.
It’s all going great, Kyle in front, Ambika in back and Owen piled on top, somewhat in the middle. That is, until Owen gets frustrated and bites Kyle’s head to get him to move. Kyle promptly whacks Owen in the face with his hand in response, and all playing must cease while we discuss the rules.
After we get everyone re-situated and Owen a little more comfortable, Nate proceeds to turn the wagon around and head down the drive way at Mach speed. Soon the wagon is moving faster than he can run at which point the laughter is so loud from the riders, we can’t determine if they are hurt, scared, or just incredibly happy.