Wheelbarrow Rides

My dad gave us lots of rides when we were little: horsey rides, piggyback rides, crab walk rides, rides on the top of his feet, rides on the top of his shoulders, bike rides, and wagon rides. Wheelbarrow rides, though, were among the favorite.  These were not leisurely rides, taken at an easy pace.  Dad could never be that sedate.  He went fast.  He twisted and turned and went over every bump he could find so we would feel like we were going to fly out of the wheelbarrow.  The best part?  At the end of the ride, he's stop short.  Suddenly.  And he'd tip us forward until we were sure we'd fall out.

How we laughed and laughed.  And said "again, again!"  "More, Daddy, more!" 

He's still at it.  Another set of kids are in the wheelbarrow, but they are still laughing and loving it.  

"More, Dziadzi, more!"  

Thanks, Dad, for all the rides.  You made our whole life a fun ride.  And now you're doing it for my kids.  We all love you for it.

I intended this post for Father's Day, but as is my trend as of late, I am a few days behind.  But better late than never.  Happy Father's Day, Dad.  I love you.