Hot Rods at the Grocery Store

Albertson's has those cool grocery carts with a kiddie car attached to the front. I hate that.

We get to the grocery store, and of course Anna is beside herself with excitement to see those super-duper cool car-carts - a whole row of them! There are a black one and a navy blue one with flame jobs on the sides, a red one with racing stripes, and a hot pink one with butterfly wings.

They don't have those in Corpus - most likely because there's only the one grocery chain in town, so they don't need to take toddler-parent pressure into their marketing considerations.

Is there anything in the world that says, "You're not a desirable, sexually attractive woman anymore - you're a pathetic, matronly bag!" like pushing a giant hot pink plastic car around a grocery store? Personally, I'd have to say no. Honestly. Because in addition to the (cough) stylin' factor, it makes you look like an enormous klutz. Sure, the cart is made to look like a hot rod, but it handles more like a heavily sedated hippopotamus. Just trying to check out, I'm knocking candy bars and gossip magazines off their racks left and right. Not good for my self-image... the fact that I've filled the cart with Hamburger Helper to feed the kids while the ol' ball-and-chain is out of town really doesn't help.

Come to think of it, grocery shopping for the kids, with said kids in tow generally doesn't tie in too well with what I like to think of as my particular... idiom?

It was way more fun grocery shopping before the husband and kids got to town. I bought a lot of baby spinach leaves and field greens and crumbled goat cheese, and batted my eyelids at the college boys, and pretended to be single.

Hell, if I'm going to have a mid-life crisis, what I really need is a sports car.