It arrived one summer evening in 1966 when neighbour Pete Johnson opened the big brown box in our driveway. Mr. Johnson worked for International Harvester farm equipment and brought a miniature tractor you pedalled. As a 7-year-old I was in heaven and rode it around the neighbourhood until I outgrew it. We kept in in the family and, in 2005, our oldest grandson Nicholas rode it.
Then, Monday afternoon second oldest grandson Christopher — don’t you love the farmer’s hat? — climbed into the driver’s seat.
How useful was this post?
Click on a star to rate it!
No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.
We are sorry that this post was not useful for you!
Let us improve this post!
Thanks for your feedback!