I grew up in the days of umbrella strollers. Just after the heyday of prams. Right into the miserable plastic and vinyl convenience of mustard and avocado. Lucky for me I have been gifted with an old soul. Something I have heard far too many times. My old soul has always longed for a "real" stroller. The kind you would see a little girl happily prance up and down the street with.
...and there she was...
All dressed up in the finest Ohio Art lithograph.
A little lamb dancing in the clover.
With nary a scratch.
Wooden beads still neatly painted.
Spoke tin wheels polished like new.
A prize toy ready for a grown up girl.
Yep...Claire and I took it for a spin around the room.
Now, I am off to find just the right baby items to fit in this treasure.