Kiddie Cart Craze

You take a slick floor, mountains of precariously stacked items, dozens of unsuspecting ankles…to which some brain cell decides it’s a solid plan to add toddlers with steel-framed battering rams on wheels. Genius! Nobody wants their metatarsals intact after grocery shopping anyway. Those kiddies need to be kept entertained, damnit! We need Brayden, Jayden and Hayden to work on their dexterity by creating demolition derbies in produce. Brooklyn, Madison and Jersey will have their creativity stunted if they can’t do bumper cars in the beverage aisle.

And the guy who spent 40 minutes stacking those boxes of gluten-free graham crackers thinks it’s HILARIOUS that Bailey was too busy yell-singing “Let It Go” to notice as she smacked into that box pyramid like Wile E. Coyote into a painted tunnel. Everybody who stopped to help pick the boxes up were smiling adoringly, too! Nobody was the least bit annoyed when Kayden careened into the dairy case. Adorbs! And we could listen all day long to that mom screech at Harley to stop playing race car in the frozen aisle. Seriously, she should record it as an MP3 ’cause that shit is super soothing. Hey, did a parent even notice their kid launch her cart through the baked goods section like a bowling ball? Eh, who the fuck cares -- I have no knee cartilage left and it’s awesome!

Whoever you are, you shin-crushing mastermind who decided that small beings with yet-undeveloped frontal lobes were ideal candidates for wheeled weaponry, you have forever altered the market-going experience, and you should be publicly acknowledged for it. However, since we don’t know your name, we’ll just refer to you by the name we already mutter under our breath during these shopping excursions you’ve provided us with. Here’s to you, Motherfucker!

Speaking of irritating circumstances...