Kids in supermarkets

A little while ago, I told the story of the kid in ICA who terrorised the shoppers with his tiny shopping trolley. It seems the thing with kids in supermarkets is a little more endemic than I thought. Given I usually go shopping early, little kids are not yet let loose. Then, on days like today, I shop much later than usual and get the full kid experience.

The reason I was shopping late was because of my ankle, the pain in which has returned with a vengeance. I think things would have been better had I taken my shoes off at the party yesterday. And, given my loathing for footwear, I don’t know why I didn’t. Stupid Gaz!

Anyway, Mirinda drove me up to the ICA. She offered to shop for me but, given past experiences, I knew this was not advisable. Also, as I pointed out, the shopping trolley was a very effective wheelie walker alternative. The four wheels served me well as I dragged my ankle along behind me.

The ICA wasn’t that crowded but there were a lot of single parents and pre-school aged kids. About half of the kids were sitting in trolleys, the other half wandering around the shop, snatching things off low shelves.

I always wonder what happens when these parents get to the check-out. Do they see that their child has picked up a brightly packaged bottle of toilet cleaner and just pay for it, or do they leave it with the cashier? Maybe it just turns up in the car one day and no-one knows why.

The ones in the shopping trolleys tend to make me laugh. They either chatter away, animatedly, with anyone who passes by, or they start crying because mum or dad has ignored their need for a princess cake. Then there’s the fruit and veg kids.

Today I was in the fruit and veg section and I kept encountering a small girl in a trolley. Her mother (it was obvious they were mother and child) kept taking loose items to the scales, weighing them, then putting a sticker on the bag while the child sat and talked to her. Obviously I have no idea what she was saying but every time the mother returned she said “Nej” so I guess it was a lot of requests.

Things came to a bit of a head in the apple aisle. I wanted three royal galas and was about to grab them when the shopping trolley, propelled punt-like by the kid, blocked my access. She was using the raised units to propel herself along, which, I have to admit, was pretty clever. I had to lean across the front of her trolley to get my apples.

As I left, grasping my apples, the mother returned and was mildly surprised that her daughter had moved the trolley.

So, I shopped then returned to the car and, for most of the rest of the day, I lay down with my foot raised.

I did cook a rather delicious tagine but, using the kitchen counter for balance is always a comfortable option.