Yesterday I went to Home Depot. Along for the ride were Ellie, my constant companion, and our babysitting friend Violet. We were fortunate enough to score what we call a "two-headed" shopping cart. Most parents will probably agree with me that those things are a lifesaving invention (except when the kids fight over whose feet go where), but they're a royal pain to maneuver.
In my vast shopping experience, I've noticed that people who aren't using these types of shopping carts fall into two categories: the ones who laugh with me while I try to push the monstrous thing around and the ones who look at me like I shouldn't have so many kids to push around in the first place.
I like the first group, although I do occasionally understand where the second group is coming from. I mean, if I didn't have kids, I would be able to hurry through the parking lot without balancing on the curb along the way, grab a normal-sized shopping cart, push it straight to the back of the store without stopping to look at the really cool heater vent robot guy or the row of toilets up on the wall, select my items, pay without explaining again why I'm not buying treats, and go home without stopping to pick up rockos in the parking lot. But I digress...
So, anyway, there we were in Home Depot, heaving the shopping cart around corners and away from floor displays, with large pieces of wood sticking out the back and small girls sticking out the front, when we caught the eye of a grandpa-looking gentleman who clearly fit into my group of choice. He said, "Wow, looks like you've got a lot of help today!"
The girls beamed and I said, "Yep, I always have lots of help wherever I go!" We went our separate ways, smiling, and Ellie looked up at me and grinned.
"Mom," she said, "You're so lucky because you don't ever have to go anywhere by yourself!"