Found a back pack, found a back pack, found a back pack. . .

. . . in the garage. we unwraped it, to get strapped in, so that I could take a ride. (you know . . to the tune of Clementine)

I really got it out for Evie to ride around in while Linden and I prune the ivy and explore the yard but apparently he remebered it fondly.
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