I was in the grocery store this morning, pushing the cart out the sliding doors to the parking lot. One of the guys in charge of retrieving the carts from the cart corral walked out to the car with me. He asked me if I liked the car kind of buggy. (I call it a “race cart;” It is the buggy with a car on the front of it for the kids to sit in, and it is a fucking bitch to navigate a grocery store with one of them, but it beats having them throwing your groceries out of the cart while you are not looking.)
I said, “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
He told me that, on weekends when the store is crowded, most parents will wait until a race cart becomes available before doing their grocery shopping.
I just stared at him, then “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.” We both laughed, then shook our heads in dismay.
Really, people. Don’t you have something better to do with your time on Saturdays than hang out in the cart area of your local Kroger, just to appease your fucking spoiled brat of a child? That’s ridiculous.
When I get to the store, if there are no racecar buggies available, I tell my kids to suck it up and ride the old-fashioned way. They bitch and moan, but there is a lesson here for them. They learn that they are not the goddamn center of the universe, that there are times in life when you just have to deal with a little disappointment. Not a bad lesson to learn on a Saturday at Kroger.
