The moment the folding wagon snaps open, the weekend begins. We pile in the toddler, the dog leash, half-eaten rice cakes, and a kite that never quite flies. One pull and the park turns into a map of treasures: the pond where ducks demand tolls, the hill that doubles as a pirate ship, the shady oak whose roots make perfect seats for snack time. When tiny legs quit, the wagon becomes a rolling...