The Voice In Your Head
Nov 11, 2025
Perhaps your little red wagon is asking if it can be stored in the garage.
Our wagon isn’t red, but it’s about the same size as one of those Radio Flyers, and can carry more stuff (Wagon puffs its chest out).
Yesterday we were trimming the foliage at the front of our house. Wagon and I made many, many trips out to the big trailer and back, moving branches and other assorted leaves and sticks to their final resting place - at least on our property, until they went to “The Dump” (the garbage place is actually called that).
At one point, a huge branch trimmed from the bottom of our magnificent blue spruce had to be taken to the big trailer. I was out of room in Wagon, and really didn’t want to make two trips. I wondered out loud if I could carry the very full and fluffy branch in one hand and pull Wagon with the other.
Wagon and Branch had a different idea. As I wrestled Branch through the gate, it grabbed Wagon’s handle and held on. I couldn’t get it loose. So I carried Branch and Wagon trundled along behind, being pulled by Branch.
Don’t tell me - ever - that the only thing that thinks is a human.
When we got to the big trailer, it took a bit of doing to get Branch to let go of Wagon. It had very cleverly gotten some of its fronds stuck in the handle, but with some effort and begging, it came loose. I thanked Branch (and Wagon) loud and long for being so creative and finding a way for all of us to make just one trip.
As I was bringing Wagon back toward the house, I thanked it again for a job well done, and said I was going to put it away, which is on the side of the house between the lilac bush and the trash can. Probably not the most elegant of places, but it’s out of the worst of the weather and protected on three sides.
Having had one successful idea, Wagon fielded another. I clearly heard, in my head, “Can I go into the garage?” (Wagon had lived there when we first brought it home.)
This was fine with me, but we had to ask the other human, my beloved Glenn, if that would work for him. As I was explaining all this to Wagon, Glenn, who was half way across the property, asked me who I was talking to. The wind was blowing that way…
”Wagon,” I replied. “It would like to come into the garage. Okay by you?”
My husband understands my predilection for talking to just about anything, so he didn’t even flinch. He talks to things too. It can get a little noisy at our house.
All of us were in agreement that Wagon could be parked in the garage.
And here it is.
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