The Wagon Ride - or - A Glimpse Of What Lies Ahead

I took Pudding Pie for a morning wagon ride today and things went splendidly at first. She adores her wagon, when it gets wheeled out of her grandparents' garage she greets it with jubilant shrieks and immediately tries to upend herself into it.

We set off on our adventure and all was well until Pudding Pie loudly proclaimed she wanted "ou", that's Pudding Pie lingo for 'out'. I told her to wait a bit; we had quite a hill to climb and I wanted her in the wagon so I could use both hands to lug my cargo. Pudding Pie thought this was a weak argument and she said so. Our debate became rather heated, she started hanging herself out the side of the wagon, wailing for freedom. She wanted to pull the wagon herself. I explained that it was too heavy, she stuck to her guns.

I compromised and agreed she could walk beside me, 'helping' to pull the wagon. This didn't go well: once she had her mitts on the handle, she became focused on getting my hand off said handle. We were in the middle of a power struggle and the wagon was swerving all over the place as we tussled for control.

I imagined the neighbors peering out from behind drawn curtains and marveling at this curious sight. Finally, I used the unfair advantage of size and I wrestled her hands off the handle, dumping her back in the wagon. She cried foul and protested very vigorously for a good 10 minutes. I tried to think happy thoughts and labored up the hill with my unhappy passenger.

Back at the house I hauled her disgruntled butt out of the wagon and plunked her down on the grass. She didn't miss a beat, she hustled over and triumphantly reclaimed control of the handle.

I lay down on the grass and let her have all the handle control she wanted.

Having ‘won’, she soon lost interest in the wagon handle and moved onto bigger things, like my camera.

I think we've officially entered the Terrible Two's.